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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26365060">Death is Easy…Living is Hard</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_delCielo/pseuds/Luna_delCielo'>Luna_delCielo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Multi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:34:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,740</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26365060</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_delCielo/pseuds/Luna_delCielo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The slayer activation spell carried a double-edged gift with it. Buffy is immortal, but her friends are not. As death creeps upon them, she wonders how she can continue living in the absences. (Story is complete and will be updated here regularly)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adam Hauptman/Mercy Thompson, Faith Lehane/Willow Rosenberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Death is Easy…Living is Hard</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Summary: The slayer activation spell carried a double-edged gift with it. Buffy is immortal, but her friends are not. As death creeps upon them, she wonders how she can continue living in the absences.</p><p>Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer &amp; the Mercy Thompson book series by Patricia Briggs.</p><p>Pairing: Hmmm, not sure if there will be one. And if there is, there are a slew of single delicious males in the Mercy Thompson series – not to mention I’m bringing over Oz into the story! :) So, feel free to ask for your desired pairing.</p><p>Timeline: recently after the events in Mercy Thompson book #4 ‘Bones Crossed’; 22 years after the events of BTVS s7 ‘Chosen’.</p><p>Note #1: Never read the Mercy Thompson books? Well, you are missing out. Fantastic stories – I may even like them better than Charlaine Harris. However, just because you have no knowledge of them doesn’t mean you can’t read this fic. I’ll make sure to cover loose ends and keep newbies informed of what is what.</p><p>Note #2: I will be melding the two universes together – note the big jump in time in the BTVS verse; there will be a reason for that ;) However, there will be canon changes for both fandoms.</p><p>Disclaimer: Own BTVS &amp; Mercy, I do not. Own them, Joss Whedon &amp; Patricia Briggs, they do. Sue me not, you will.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Not only are these knives the sharpest of their kind, but they have a lifetime guarantee!” the woman on the Home Shopping Network trilled in excitement. She granted the television audience with a winning smile, but it looked awkward. Too straight, too white. Almost inhuman.<br/><br/><em>Inhuman</em>, Buffy snorted. Kinda like her. Like how Buffy couldn’t buy those knives and expect a lifetime guarantee…not considering her lifetime was forever.<br/><br/>Well, unless she died in battle. Otherwise, Buffy was immortal. <br/><br/>Apparently.<br/><br/>She sighed heavily and stirred more sugar into her coffee. It was eight at night and she was stuck at yet another rest stop – this time in the Tri-Cities, Washington; her final destination. Since the revelation on the condition of her mortality, Buffy had been joyriding across the country. <br/><br/>Or more like ‘somber’-riding, considering she was feeling less than joyful.<br/><br/>“Here’s your fries and burger,” the waitress said softly as she set the plate in front of Buffy; softly like she was afraid of the slayer. Likely Buffy was exuding some bad juju due to her dark thoughts, so Buffy pushed them to the side for the moment. She was hungry and there was food to eat.<br/><br/>Fifteen minutes later Buffy paid her tab and ambled out of the diner. It was late and she had yet to find a place to stay, but she wasn’t particularly worried. There was something calling her, urging her to keep walking, and avoid the adventure of finding a nearby hotel.<br/><br/>That ‘something’ had never been clearly defined by Buffy. It was just this feeling that settled in her gut, heightened her senses, and sent enough adrenaline coursing through her veins to make her feel uneasy. It was the Call to Hunt, more or less. <br/><br/>And after twenty-nine years of being the slayer, Buffy had learned to listen to her instincts. So she walked.<br/><br/>The waxing moon rose higher in the sky, nearly full and easily illuminating the surrounding area. Buffy was grateful for the extra light to hunt in but grunted in annoyance that it also made it harder for her to blend into the shadows.<br/><br/>Walking down the street from the diner, Buffy took in the storefronts of locally owned shops, including a coffee place, salon, and used book store. This side of town was kind of cute, she thought as her hazel eyes took in the small-town look of the place. It reminded her of Sunnydale – well, not the gaping hole it was now but how it used to look when she was a teenager.<br/><br/>A wistful smile crossed her face. She missed the Bronze and hanging out with Xander, Willow, (and hell) even Cordelia. Those were simple times.<br/><br/>Her gut clenched at the thought of Xander and Buffy forced herself not to cry one more goddamn tear. <br/><br/>Yes, those were definitely simpler times, she thought with a bitter smile.<br/><br/>After some time Buffy heard a noise down the block, the scuffling of several pairs of feet and the hissing sound that she had come to associate with vampires. That special something in her chest tightened, as their presence became known to her. Buffy’s legs leapt forward as she began to race soundlessly down the sidewalk. A car repair shop came into view. Its parking lot was dimly lit with a fading light and several vehicles cluttered the area – and effectively obstructed her view. A sharp cry rang out, a woman’s cry, and Buffy increased her speed.<br/><br/>It felt good, running like this. Slaying was the only constant in Buffy’s life, for better or for worse. At least, she opined silently, it made her feel alive during a time in her life when grief always waited in the wings. <br/><br/>Pulling the stake from her jeans, Buffy’s sharp eyes took in the sight of four nasty forehead-wrinkly vamps and a lone girl. The girl was taller than Buffy (not that it said much) with long dark hair and deep brown eyes that glittered under the moon’s light. Tattoos adorned her body, but they somehow fit the girl. She dressed like a mechanic, with dirty jeans and a stained green t-shirt, so Buffy figured she worked here.<br/><br/>“Crossed bones means your life is forfeit. You have no protection, girl,” one of the vampires, a blond guy with enough hair gel to put Angel to shame, cackled.<br/><br/>“I am mate to the Alpha of the Columbia River Pack,” she snapped back, anger (surprisingly not fear) flooding her voice. “And Marsilia absolved me of guilt last night. The cross will be removed by morning.”<br/><br/>The four vampires shared similar smiles. “By morning we’ll be in Seattle, werewolf bitch. Not our fault the vampires here were too slow for some spring cleaning,” a red-haired woman grinned. She reached out to grab the girl’s arm, but the girl blocked it with a rush of speed that surprised Buffy, and then she crushed the vampire’s nose with the heel of her hand.<br/><br/>For a second Buffy wasn’t quite sure what was going on. The werewolves had come out of the closet last year (and the fae twenty years before that, thanks to the threat of an army of slayers and a tricky situation) so she supposed it shouldn’t be so weird to hear it talked about in the open…but then again this wasn’t exactly ‘open’, was it?<br/><br/>The girl had managed to inflict some pain on the other vamps, but she didn’t have a stake and the odds were against her. Quickly the girl was captured, her back to the blond vamp as he eyed her neck.<br/><br/>“Hey!” Buffy’s voice rang out into the night, shattering the illusion that this was going to be easy for the bad guys.<br/><br/>They turned to her, and dismissed her after a quick sniff. “Not werewolf,” one, an eighties punk styled vamp, snorted in disdain.<br/><br/>Buffy let out a huff of irritation and stalked up to them, knowing she needed to keep their attention on her. “Yeah, not a werewolf,” she said with a roll of her hazel eyes. Then a sudden grin tugged at her lips as she let herself play – her last slay had been far too long ago, after all. “I’m something worse than the Big Bag Wolf.”<br/><br/>The punk vamp scanned her with yellow skeptical eyes. “Doesn’t smell like a wolf and not a vampire,” he told his brethren.<br/><br/>Buffy took notice of the girl watching her with a penetrating stare. Recognition of some sort flashed in her dark eyes – she may not know what Buffy was, but she knew she was something Other. With a slight nod of her head – Buffy assumed the girl was a werewolf and would pick up on subtle body language – she gestured towards the vamp behind the girl. The two of them could manage these four weak vamps easily.<br/><br/>Punk vamp turned to her again. “Smells human,” he commented, his voice twisted in confusion, as if he couldn’t understand why a petite human girl would confront terrifying creatures of the night.<br/><br/>Oh, sigh. <br/><br/>Smiling grimly at his statement, she replied in an irritable voice. “Actually, I’m not. Not anymore.”<br/><br/>Then the stake in her hand flashed – near her waist one moment and in the punk vamp's heart the next. Dust exploded over them all, thanks to the damn breeze that had picked up, and the other vampires snarled as they rushed towards her. Fortunately, the girl had been expected the distraction and she quickly took on the one vamp that had been holding her, while Buffy killed the other two. When she was done, she tossed the girl the stake and she easily dispatched the remaining vamp.<br/><br/>As the dust cleared (literally), the two women just stared at each other. Finally, the other girl broke eye contact and gestured towards the ground. “In my experience you have to set them on fire to get them to die.”<br/><br/>Buffy’s lips quirked up a notch. “You a slayer I haven’t heard about?” Her question, however, wasn’t serious. Buffy knew each and every one of the slayers – regardless if she had ever met them before or not. They were all in her head, closed off unless she opened the bond she had with them.<br/><br/>The girl – although Buffy probably shouldn’t call her that. The woman was in her late twenties…but apparently now that Buffy was freaking forty-four years old, everyone seemed like a youngin’. <br/><br/>Anyways, the woman smiled at her comment, but it was an unsure smile that carried numerous questions with it. “Slayer?” she queried.<br/><br/>“Slayer,” Buffy confirmed. “Werewolf?”<br/><br/>The maybe-werewolf’s evasive eyes turned towards the garage behind them, and then back on Buffy. “Walker, actually.” There was a bit of an apology behind the statement, as if she was asked this question often and felt like she was supposed to be a werewolf.<br/><br/>“Walker?” Buffy thought that sounded familiar…Native American, she decided. Glancing at the woman she noticed that her features were more Anglo than Native, but her skin was dark and her very-straight black hair had that beautiful shine to it that the indigenous peoples of America were blessed with. At first she had appeared Latina, but apparently not.<br/><br/>“Wait,” Buffy said quickly as her stance turned more defensive. “Aren’t Walkers black-magic mamba jamba people?”<br/><br/>The woman gave her a dry smile. “I’m not one of those, but it’s the only name I know for me. I turn into a coyote.”<br/><br/>Weird. Trust Buffy to land in a city that had werewolves, vamps, and a freaking coyote. Not to mention the fae had a reservation just ten miles away – god, she hoped she didn’t run into any of <em>them</em>. “Okay then.” Which it was – okay, that is. Buffy was pretty much a total freak herself, so what did it matter?<br/><br/>“Well, I appreciate your help,” the woman said quickly after she glanced at her watch. “But I have a date and still have to scrub all the dirt out from underneath my nails.” She paused. “You need a lift anywhere?”<br/><br/>The realization that this woman had a date and things to do settled oddly into Buffy’s mind. It was like, yet again, she was an observer of life – others carried on their human actions, simple things like dates, while she had no connection. It made her sad, but she quickly waved away the useless emotion. There was <em>no way</em> she was going to treat her immortality like Angel and be a brooding broodster. <br/><br/>“Nah, I’m good,” Buffy smiled, a bright cheerful one, like how she used to back when she was just ‘Anne’ and worked as a waitress.<br/><br/>“Okay then, see you,” the Walker said quickly as she went to a VW Bug. It seemed like she was waiting for Buffy to leave before she vacated the premises, so Buffy did. She didn’t know anything about coyotes but they were like dogs and thus they were likely territorial. <br/><br/>Buffy was silent as she walked back to the diner to get her car. It was only now, away from the Walker, that her words sunk in a bit more. She was the mate to the werewolf Alpha. That was interesting. <br/><br/>Well, at least she would have something to talk to Oz about tomorrow at lunch.<br/><br/>…that is, if they got tired of discussing how to deal with immortality first.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Catching Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The next two chapters set into motion how these universes fit together and what’s been going on in Buffy’s world these last 22 years. (just to clarify, because I know when I read a little-known crossover, I appreciate explanations within the story/author notes).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>Mercy Thompson – mechanic, coyote, and mate to a werewolf – was a no-fuss kind of gal. She liked that Adam didn’t mind if she had grease under her fingernails and wore jeans and a t-shirt as her official uniform. It was even more special because Adam, like most Alpha werewolves, was a control freak. Everything was clean, pressed, and he always dressed with impeccable style in various suits.<br/><br/>She grinned as she pinned up her hair. Adam looked especially nice in a suit. Something about the way the tailored jacket fit his broad shoulders…<br/><br/>Shaking herself out of the memory, she finished getting dressed. Jesse, Adam’s teenage daughter with his ex-wife, had just called to tell her that Adam was taking her put-putting. Thank god. Mercy could clean up nicely if she had to, but after the fight earlier she just wanted to relax<br/><br/>Unfortunately, she realized as she stepped out of her room and saw two men staring at her in horror, ‘relax’ was maybe not going to be possible tonight.<br/><br/>Adam, her mate, was the Alpha of the Columbia River Pack. His Slavic features leant to his beauty, as did his impressive werewolf muscles. But it was his sheer power that truly added to his presence. For years she had avoided being with Adam because of the fear she had of his power (not that he would hurt her, but just that he was a powerful werewolf and there were plenty of reasons to avoid those). Adam was the fourth most dominant wolf in North America – right after the Bran, the Marrok (leader of the wolves on this continent), and his two sons, Samuel and Charles.<br/><br/>Samuel just happened to be her roommate (and former boyfriend, but that was a very long time ago). He had moved in a year or so ago because, frankly, he needed it. Samuel was very, very old; and old werewolves don’t last for long. They were immortal, sure, but that wasn’t always a good thing. As the world changed and people died they tended to get a bit crazy. Her roommate wasn’t crazy but he was broken. She knew that. He needed a partner but with her he had instead gotten pack, of sorts. Samuel had come back to Mercy in an attempt to woo her but they eventually realized their love was a different kind. He was still broken, but she knew it helped that he lived here.<br/><br/>So to have two of the most powerful werewolves in the world staring at her was more than a little intimidating. Sure, Mercy had grown up around wolves, but this was a different ballgame. Neither of them had been here when she got home but she bet she knew why they were upset now. She had tried to scrub herself clean in the shower but scent was a tricky thing.<br/><br/>“Hey guys,” Mercy greeted with an easy smile. All she wanted was a nice date with Adam. After the experiences of the past few days (her vampire friend Stefan being tortured, the mistress of the local seethe wanting her head, and a powerful vampire in Spokane imprisoning and almost killing her) she <em>really</em> wanted to relax. <br/><br/>“Mercy, why do you smell like vampire?” Adam asked. His voice was calm and cool, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Nope, alpha wolves liked to get deadly calm when they were really angry.<br/><br/>Her shoulders rolled into an easy shrug. “Because I had some show up at my garage,” Mercy answered matter-of-factly. Werewolves could sense a lie so there was no point in that. Besides, Adam was her mate and they had promised to not keep secrets from each other anymore.<br/><br/>Both men leaned forward, their expressions flashing to a protective and grim look. “What?” they shouted in unison.<br/><br/>Mercy tried not to fault them, she really did. Dominant wolves couldn’t help the protective instinct towards the lower (weaker) pack members. Asking them to cool it was pretty much an impossible command for them to follow (and in an agitated state you <em>definitely</em> did not want to boss around an alpha wolf – unless you wanted to be bit).<br/><br/>For Adam it was even worse. He was her mate and took her safety very seriously. In fact, after he got Mercy from Spokane she knew Adam had been beating himself up about the (uncontrollable) fact that she had been kidnapped. This new situation wasn’t going to calm him at all.<br/><br/>“It’s okay,” Mercy said quickly. “There were four and now they’re all dead.”<br/><br/>The tension in their bodies lessened but it still remained; an alpha is always ready to fight at the mention of danger.<br/><br/>“Yeah,” Mercy continued in a careless voice – because she <em>did</em> not want them worrying about her – “they all went ‘poof’.” Her nose crinkled in bewilderment. “Since when do vamps turn to dust after just a stake to the heart?”<br/><br/>Adam and Samuel exchanged wary looks. “Dust? Are you sure of it?” Samuel asked.<br/><br/>“Well yeah…Is that normal? Because if so, I’m really annoyed that I needed to set the demon-possessed vampire and Andre on fire,” Mercy scowled. Apparently walkers were known as vampire hunters (not that anyone had thought to tell her that while growing up; but she guessed Bran had never known, either. Not too long ago a demon had possessed a sorcerer who had then been turned into a vampire. All hell had broken out and she had killed him, and then killed his maker Andre. The stake to the heart, decapitation, and fire had not been easy, but she had done it. Strangely, she realized that staking those vampires had been much harder than the one she met tonight.<br/><br/>She wondered how that ‘slayer’ girl had known that these vampires would die with just a stake to the heart. Also, why had their foreheads wrinkled and where did the yellow eyes come from? Stefan, when he hungered, always had red eyes.<br/><br/>The wolves settled into their chairs; knowledge that the threat had passed had stilled the tension. “There are several types of vampires – or half-breeds, as some call them,” Samuel began. “The ‘dust’ kind – what you met tonight, used to flourish over the world because the Change is a simple process for them. Instead of having to feed from the same human for years while exchanging small amounts of their own blood—”<br/><br/>Like Stefan, Mercy thought.<br/><br/>“—those vampires can be turned by being drunk from to the brink of death and then ingesting a small amount of vampire blood,” Samuel finished.<br/><br/>Mercy frowned. That must have led to pure chaos.<br/><br/>“About ten years ago,” Adam continued. “The numbers for those vampires began dwindling dramatically – because although they reproduce quickly, they are far stupider than the brethren that Stefan belongs to. Less powerful, as well.”<br/><br/>“Now there are few remaining in America, although they still flourish in a few select other countries,” Samuel said. His brow wrinkled. “To be honest, my da and I have yet to see one in at least five years.”<br/><br/>“So what killed them?” Mercy asked. Silently, she wondered why they had come to her garage tonight. Yes, when Marsilia, the mistress of the local vampire seethe, had declared her a traitor for killing Andre and painted the magic ‘crossed bones’ symbol on her garage, Mercy had been told it would open invitation to lesser evil creatures to do Mercy harm, but she hadn’t expected that to actually happen. <br/><br/>Samuel’s eyes took on a faraway look; as they did when he delved into his past. “My da knows a bit about them but it was a secret order that did it.” He paused. “They’re called the Watcher’s Council but their true weapon is the slayer – and somehow in the last twenty-two years or so they’ve expanded their slayer ranks.”<br/><br/>Mercy’s ears perked up. “Slayer?”<br/><br/>Adam must have felt something through their mate bond because he gave her a sudden look. “What did you see?”<br/><br/>Their mate bond – the standard connection for all mated werewolves – could be pretty neat sometimes. Not only could they feel each other’s emotions easier (occasionally) but they could get flashes of memory and thoughts as well.<br/><br/>“That’s who helped me, I guess. She was shorter than me, skinny, with blond hair. Called herself a slayer.”<br/><br/>Their eyes widened. If she didn’t have their attention beforehand, she definitely had it now. <br/><br/>“Slayers have a reputation for killing werewolves – and any other non-human,” Samuel stated grimly. “If she’s here, the pack is at risk.”<br/><br/>“Tell us about her,” Adam urged.<br/><br/>***<br/><br/>Buffy smoothed back her hair as she examined her reflection in the Mexican restaurant window. She had slept easily last night, almost too easily, and she had found it difficult to get out of bed this morning. Her dreams had led her down the path of an older, more innocent memory of watching movies at Xander’s, and Buffy had found it hard to break free of that spell. Her dreams did that sometimes; they were so vivid that occasionally Buffy almost preferred them to the real thing.<br/><br/>She forced a smile on her face. It had taken a lot to find Oz and their meeting was very important to her. Buffy wouldn’t let herself act morose around him. He deserved better.<br/><br/>A few minutes later he walked through the door. Oz was still very Oz-like, she was pleased to note. His hair was an electric blue; nice to see he still dyed his hair. Loose jeans and a slim black t-shirt with an image of Yoda holding a guitar saying “Rock out, I will” comprised his outfit. Green eyes didn’t bother scanning the restaurant for her; suddenly his eyes were just on her and he began walking towards her with a crooked smile. <br/><br/>Buffy wondered if he could just feel her presence. Werewolves had weird super senses; she had learned that a while back after some run-ins with them. <br/><br/>“Hey,” he greeted with a tilt of his head as he sat down.<br/><br/>The forced smile she wore on her face as armor melted down to a sincere grin. “Hey Oz.”<br/><br/>No one had seen Oz since a couple years after Sunnydale when he helped them retrieve a slayer captured by a sorcerer in the Himalayan Mountains. That was when they found out that werewolves were immortal, because Oz didn’t look a day older than seventeen, when he was turned. At the time, they didn’t get why Oz didn’t want to go back with them to work at the Council, but now Buffy was starting to think she knew why.<br/><br/>“Mexican.” His eyes twinkled. “I see your tastes haven’t changed much.”<br/><br/>She laughed. Sunnydale didn’t have many places besides the Expresso Pump and the Bronze but there was a Mexican restaurant there that she had loved. “Hey, I’m an L.A. girl. Mexican food is part of the culture.”<br/><br/>“There’s a large Hispanic population in the Tri-Cities, especially here in Pasco. Food rivals L.A. even.” His eyes examined her with ease; she wondered if he was noticing how Buffy had not aged, either.<br/><br/>Internally, she rolled her eyes. Of course he noticed. Oz was the strong silent type that tended to notice everything. <br/><br/>“Awesome,” Buffy replied as she looked down at the menu. “I’m in an enchilada kind of mood.”<br/><br/>The waitress came and took their orders. Buffy and Oz conversed a little, skirting over important life issues that had nothing to do with being either a werewolf or a slayer. She gave him the updates on everyone. Giles was in his seventies but still going strong. He was the Director of the Council but was little by little giving more authority to Dawn, who was the Assistant Director. <br/><br/>Dawn lived near the Council Headquarters outside of Oxford and was balancing between being a career woman and a mom to three teenagers. Shortly after Sunnydale’s demise, Giles was able to bring Kit (with her parents) and (a now-orphaned) Carlos to London to finish high school. Maybe it was the stress of almost world end-age, or maybe it was (most likely) just meant to be, but she had married Carlos shortly after high school. Carlos was a watcher with the Council, using a degree from Oxford in child psychology, and he specialized in slayers from troubled backgrounds.<br/><br/>Willow was doing well – and Buffy was glad that after all these years Oz didn’t even bat an eye at the mention of her name – and she lived with her partner with several children they had adopted over the years. Sometimes parents reacted like how Buffy’s did when she first told her mom the truth – they kicked the slayers out of their homes. Unlike Buffy’s, however, the slayers were truly abandoned. So Willow and her partner, who also came from a bad home, adopted them.<br/><br/>“Who’d she end up with?” Oz inquired once he realized Buffy had never given him a name.<br/><br/>Buffy made a face. “It’s really weird. I mean, they were working together for years and just got together a few years ago.” Not that Buffy saw them much in the last ten years – especially Willow – but it was still a strange sight.<br/><br/>“Who?” Humor was evident in Oz’s voice; apparently he enjoyed watching her squirm.<br/><br/>“Faith,” Buffy answered in a rush of air.<br/><br/>Oz just stared at her. Finally he took a gulp of iced tea and shrugged. “I could see that.”<br/><br/>One skeptical brow replied in return. “Really?” Buffy asked archly.<br/><br/>He smirked at her reaction. “They both tend to live in the ‘now’; even though Willow is a planner in some regards, she’s not in many others. Plus, Faith always had an affect on Willow in high school. I thought it was because she was jealous of her friend getting taken away,” Oz said as he motioned towards Buffy. “But maybe it was something else.”<br/><br/>“Yeah,” Buffy said airily. “They do work well together,” she admitted. “It’s just so weird. Everyone – even Faith, who I never would have expected – paired up with someone.”<br/><br/>“Who’s Xander with?” Oz took a bite of his burrito and gave her a thoughtful look.<br/><br/>Buffy slammed down her the emotions that threatened to react. She shouldn’t have come here to see Oz, not so close to the anniversary. She didn’t want to rehash her life. Not now.<br/><br/>Oz’s eyes widened slightly and he turned his eyes away as he stirred the straw in his drink. “When?”<br/><br/>Taking a deep breath, she fought to control her senses. “Ten years ago next week. Vampire.”<br/><br/>Closing his eyes, Oz shook her head. He didn’t have to voice his words. She knew them.<br/><br/>After nineteen years of fighting everything big and bad, how come a mere vampire had finally taken Xander at the tender age of thirty-two?<br/><br/>“It was my fault.” Buffy was surprised by the breaking tone of her voice. How was it possible to carry so much grief within one person? Sometimes she thought it would break her. <br/><br/>“Why do you say that?” came Oz’s soft response as he laid a hand on her arm.<br/><br/>His touch triggered something within her. Her defenses fell and tears began cascading down her cheeks. She was grateful that they were in a back section, alone. <br/><br/>“She took him, <em>turned</em> him, because of me,” Buffy cried. Every emotion that she had pushed back over these weeks came flooding through her now. She hated her tears even while she loved the release of it all; a mild part of her wondered why she was able to cry now, of all places and with Oz of all people.<br/><br/>“He…Xander and I…” Watery hazel eyes met green compassionate ones. “We were going to get married,” Buffy explained in a watery voice. Oz looked a little surprised, although not much so, and Buffy smiled in spite of herself. “Let’s just say I realized how stupid I had been in my teens and twenties,” she commented wryly.<br/><br/>“And what happened?” Oz kept his hand on her arm and Buffy reveled in the warmth it spread through her – and no, not sexy-warmth but a family-type-warmth.<br/><br/>Sighing, she shook her head. Her tears were diminishing but her voice was still rough. “Stupid Harmony, of all people,” Buffy said, the bitter in her voice evident. “The fae were out and she wanted to vampires out as well – apparently she and a large group of vamps thought they could shop around a reality TV show and be famous like those Kar-dashing people.” She rolled her eyes. “Most vampires weren’t interested but Harmony had a sizeable group – and the Council knew if the vampires got brought out, so would we.”<br/><br/>“Is that so bad?” Oz asked. <br/><br/>She guessed he was okay with the wolves being out.<br/><br/>Buffy shrugged. “If I knew the alternative, sure.” She frowned and shook her head. “But if the slayers came out then we’d have to worry about our girls being taken before we got to them – or hell, even after – and turned into perfect little soldiers for whatever political cause. No, we have to keep them safe.”<br/><br/>“So Harmony turned Xander in order to send you a message?”<br/><br/>Xander’s image flashed through her brain. They had found him too late, four days after he had been turned. The sight of his yellow eyes…god, they still haunted her.<br/><br/>“A message? Sort of. Harmony thought if Xander was a vampire then the ‘Queen of Slayers’” – Buffy made quotation marks with her fingers – “would have more reason to leave the vampires alone and let them come out, especially because Xander was a hero, thanks to his almost-twenty years of battle. Apparently he was to serve as a good example of why vampires were okay. ”<br/><br/>She pursed her lips. Harmony was so damn stupid. “She had also planned on using Spike and Angel – on account of their souls – to serve as spokespeople too.”<br/><br/>“But the vampires never came out,” Oz stated with a quizzical look.<br/><br/>“Exactly. Because the bigger-badder vamps – the secretive kind Giles didn’t realize still existed in smaller numbers – took Harmony and her group out.” Buffy smiled then, a predator’s smile, at the memory. <br/><br/>“And Xander?”<br/><br/>Her smile fell. “Willow staked him.”<br/><br/>Oz moved forward in his seat, his jaw dropping just slightly. It took a lot to surprise the laconic werewolf, but apparently this did the trick.<br/><br/>Grief threatened to overwhelm her, but Oz’s warmth kept her mind clear. “I wanted her to ensoul Xander, just like Angel and Spike…but she wouldn’t.” Buffy’s lips pressed into a thin line and her hands squeezed together until her knuckles were white. “She said Xander would rather be dead than be a vampire.”<br/><br/>“He did hate vampires after Jesse,” Oz commented mildly.<br/><br/>Turning to him with blazing eyes, Buffy made an angry noise. But she wasn’t angry at him, not really. It was just…<br/><br/>“He would have stayed for me,” she said in a small voice, akin to a little girl’s voice. “He wouldn’t have left me.”<br/><br/>“No, he wouldn’t have,” Oz agreed. Even before Buffy and Xander were romantically involved it was clear Xander would never leave his slayer. <br/><br/>“But Willow said that not only would Xander hate being a vampire, I would regret it later as I aged and he never did. It would pain him to lose me to mortal death and then he would be lost afterwards.” Humor weaved into her voice, but it was definitely not the ‘funny-ha-ha’ sort of humor. It was bitter and ironic, and tinged with anger.<br/><br/>Oz settled back into his side of the booth and observed her. Finally, after a few minutes, he said, “But you don’t age, do you?”<br/><br/>Buffy met his eyes, forcibly calming herself. What happened to Xander was a long time ago. She had managed life over the last decade without him but the pain of the upcoming anniversary had made the wounds raw and fresh. <br/><br/>She gave the werewolf a grim smile. “And that’s why I needed to talk to you.”</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Misconceptions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oz waited for her to speak. Which was nice and obviously Oz-like of him, but Buffy’s mind was filled with so many questions that she was at a loss for words. To kill time, she took a couple bites of her taco. Finally she swallowed and began speaking.<br/><br/>“When Willow used the scythe to activate the other slayers I could feel this…” Her mind didn’t know how to describe it – it was far too complex for human speech. “This energy,” Buffy lamely explained. “Anyways, it passed through me and I could <em>feel</em> it entering hundreds of girls, each of them slayers.”<br/><br/>Oz nodded. He knew the overall story from their brief visit in the Himalayans.<br/><br/>“After that, weird things started happening. One of the new slayers, Rona, got captured by some demons in Istanbul and…I could <em>hear</em> her calling out for help. I could even pinpoint her location.” Buffy’s lips parted but then she pressed them together. This is where it got weird. But she pressed on nonetheless.<br/><br/>“Stuff like that happened more often. My visions of other slayers increased and over time I began to realize I could hear their thoughts if I forced myself too.” Buffy gave him a chagrined smile. “You can probably remember what happened last time I could read thoughts.”<br/><br/>A slightly panicked look entered his eyes and he released his hold on her. “Yeah.”<br/><br/>Buffy smirked, fondly remembering Oz’s philosophical thoughts from that incident in high school. “Don’t worry. It only works with slayers.”<br/><br/>Oz breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.” Then he frowned. “But still probably not good for you?”<br/><br/>She shrugged. “This was a couple years after Sunnydale. There were some days when I thought I would go mad from all the noise in my head…and there were some days when I could handle it okay. Willow taught me meditation, with an infusion of magic, and I’ve managed since then.<br/><br/>“Giles, Willow, and Dawn ran some tests. They thought everything was tied into the activation spell and realized my powers increased when I was holding the scythe.” A sudden smile flitted across her face. “It did come handy in battle once or twice.”<br/><br/>“I bet,” Oz said with a pensive expression.<br/><br/>“Anyways,” Buffy continued with a wave of her hand; she needed to get to the point. “That was all it was – enhanced mental communication with my slayers and, over time, an increase in strength, healing, and agility. By the time I was thirty I was taking on Big Bads that would have killed me easily if I was still just in college or something.”<br/><br/>Buffy tapped her nails on the table. She had barely eaten any of her tacos, she noticed. “People began to notice I wasn’t getting any older. Still, they chalked it up to my slayer-ness. Even Faith looked good for her age when we were in our early thirties.” Of course, Faith was developing fine wrinkles just like anyone else, now.<br/><br/>“A few months ago I ran into a nasty demon who spread some sort of virus through our complex in Rome. It took out the two dozen people there but not me. After I killed it, Giles was curious and called in Willow and some other seers and witches to do some tests.” Buffy gritted her teeth. She had never forgiven Willow for what she had done and she never would. <br/><br/>“Long story short, I’m immune to disease and age. I could be killed but even that’s tough – I heal quickly and my body is different – like my bones are denser so they’re hard to break.”<br/><br/>“Whoa,” Oz breathed.<br/><br/>“Yeah. So,” Buffy shrugged. “Seeing as you’re the only immortal human I know – because Angel and Spike? Haven’t dealt with immortality in the healthiest ways – I thought maybe you had some tips.”<br/><br/>“Tips?” Oz’s lips quirked into a brief smile. <br/><br/>She swatted his hand playfully. “Yeah,” Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. “Like how you, you know, deal.”<br/><br/>Oz gave her a playful smile. “Most werewolves are taught, once they enter a pack, to start an investment portfolio. Immortality is apparently more enjoyable if you have money.” He laughed at her expression. “Of course, I spend most of my money on guitars. You should see my house.”<br/><br/>Relaxing from the lightened conversation topic – even if it wasn’t <em>truly</em> what she had come to discuss – Buffy leaned back in her seat. “I bet,” she grinned. “You know, Giles made sure to start one for each of us once he took control of the Council and began issuing us back payments for all of our work.” Buffy winked. “My home in Rio has more closets than rooms.”<br/><br/>Oz laughed. “Rio?”<br/><br/>Buffy nodded. “For now. I usually move every couple years. I’ve avoided America since…well, since Xander. After we closed down the Cleveland Hellmouth just nine years after Sunnydale, we don’t even have a base here. The Council has focused on Asia, mostly.”<br/><br/>Oz nodded. “I didn’t plan on coming back, either. Tibet was cool. But…”<br/><br/>“But?”<br/><br/>“But there was a girl I was falling for, the youngest daughter of the Alpha who had taught me how to control my wolf. She felt the same way, but her father disapproved and ordered me to leave.” It was the most Oz had said at once during their entire lunch, and she could see the pain still dwelling behind his eyes.<br/><br/>“Why?” Buffy asked, outraged. “What a jerk!”<br/><br/>Her reaction had the desired effect – he smiled. “He knew what it was like to marry a mortal and have mortal children…and the negative effects, especially on his wife. He didn’t want that for his daughter.”<br/><br/>“Couldn’t you have fought for her?” <br/><br/>“Maybe. I was a member of the pack but outside of the pack, so I didn’t necessarily <em>have</em> to obey orders. But I knew it was for the best. Bayarmaa deserved a normal life.”<br/><br/>Eyes narrowing in a skeptical fashion, Buffy let out a huff of air. Oz’s statement reminded her too much of when Angel left her after graduation. “Maybe she just deserved you.”<br/><br/>He winced and she instantly felt bad for coming at him like that. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s just…Angel did that to me.”<br/><br/>“Yeah,” he acknowledged. “But wasn’t that for the best?”<br/><br/>Buffy couldn’t deny that. She and Angel weren’t meant to be, regardless of what her stupid teenage hormones had thought. “Yeah, it was,” she admitted.<br/><br/>Oz nodded. “So about eight years ago I left for America and pledged myself to the…” He paused. “Do you know understand wolf hierarchy?”<br/><br/>Buffy snorted. “Couple years ago I ran into a nasty French werewolf once known as the Beast of Gévaudan. He died and apparently that forced some changes into the wolfy institutions of Europe, so I heard.”<br/><br/>“Yeah, we’re different than Europe; or so I’ve been told. America has one ruler, the Marrok, and he oversees every pack. Each pack then has an Alpha. Immigrant wolves have to pledge themselves to the Marrok – of course, I wasn’t an immigrant but I had never joined a pack here, so my old Alpha arranged a meeting with the Marrok.”<br/><br/>“Hmm.” Buffy really didn’t know a lot about the wolves. They were a secretive group and she had only come across the Beast because he preyed on women and children – and he made the mistake of preying on one of their youngest slayers. She was really glad he was dead.<br/><br/>“Then the Marrok sent me to the Tri-Cities and now I run a music shop and do guitar lessons on the side.” Oz smiled slyly. “Just your average werewolf story.”<br/><br/>The opening strands of “Bad Moon Rising” began playing and Oz grabbed his cell phone with a curious expression. “Hey Adam.”<br/><br/>“Omega.” The voice emitted power, even over the phone, and Buffy bet anything that was a werewolf. “We’re having a meeting in one hour. The pack is under threat.”<br/><br/>“I’ll be there.”<br/><br/>The man on the other end hung up and Oz put his phone away with an apologetic expression. “Sorry. Pack business.”<br/><br/>“So I heard.” Kind of hard to have private phone conversations when you had a super slayer with keen ears around. “Under threat?”<br/><br/>Oz grimaced. “It’s been happening more often lately.” Then he laughed. “It’s probably Adam’s mate, Mercy. She gets into more trouble than, well, you back in high school.”<br/><br/>“Hey!” Buffy called out in mock-outrage. Then something clicked. “By any chance is Mercy a coyote?”<br/><br/>A guarded look came into Oz’s eyes. They were friends, yes, but Buffy suddenly understood that Mercy was Pack and a werewolf never trusted outsiders to Pack information – regardless if they were old high school friends or not.<br/><br/>“I met her last night,” Buffy explained. “I was walking and there were four vampires attacking her at a car repair shop. We dusted them pretty quickly and shared what we were, but didn’t give names.”<br/><br/>Oz visibly relaxed. “Yeah, Mercy owns that garage. She’s done a great job at keeping my van alive after all these years.” After a pause he added, “Vampires? Like the Sunnydale kind?”<br/><br/>Buffy nodded. <br/><br/>“Odd…Mercy had a run-in with the other kind recently – you know the other kind, Buffy?”<br/><br/>“Yeah. Took us a while to learn about them, actually. Giles thought they were extinct…but they were the ones who killed Harmony; from the L.A. seethe.”<br/><br/>“There’s a seethe here, too.”<br/><br/>Buffy gave him a surprised look. “That’s a lot of supernaturals in one city.”<br/><br/>“Fae reservation adds extra energy. Not a Hellmouth but definitely makes for a supe playground,” Oz explained. “Anyways, we haven’t seen the half-breed kind here…Actually, I haven’t seen one since coming back to America, actually.”<br/><br/>“Ah, well.” Buffy gave him a bashful smile. “That would be because of me…after Xander I didn’t want to see another set of yellow eyes and crinkly foreheads for the rest of my life. I took the scythe on a coast-to-coast tour of dusting mayhem.”<br/><br/>“Good.” In that instant Buffy could tell he was pained by the idea that Xander had been killed, and that he was glad she had taken revenge. “But why not the other kind?”<br/><br/>“They’re harder to find…and to kill…and besides,” Buffy sighed, “they helped with Harmony and her group of reality wannabe vamps, so we made an agreement – unless they threaten me or mine or go further than just keeping a house of sheep, I was to leave them alone.” This kind of vampire typically kept ten humans, or sheep, in their homes and regularly fed off of them. It made them keep a low profile since they only had to hunt once every few years.<br/><br/>Oz’s brow furrowed. “Doesn’t sound like a deal you’d make.”<br/><br/>“I know.” Buffy took a drink of her soda and suddenly wished she had a margarita. “But I wasn’t exactly myself at the time. I was desperate to find Harmony and her gang, and to see them dead.”<br/><br/>“Desperate times—”<br/><br/>“Desperate measures,” Buffy finished grimly.<br/><br/>The waitress came by with their check and Buffy beat Oz’s attempt at handing over her credit card.<br/><br/>“My treat,” she grinned as the waitress walked away with a bemused smile.<br/><br/>“You’re in my territory and my guest. Should be my treat,” Oz argued lightly, a smile tugging at his lips.<br/><br/>“And <em>you’ve</em> been forced to listen to my sob story,” Buffy pointed out. “Sorry about that,” she added grimly. “I promised myself I wouldn’t go all Negative Nancy on you.”<br/><br/>“It’s cool. After all, if we’re going to both be immortal, it’ll be easier with a friend along for the ride,” Oz smiled.<br/><br/>Her chest tightened and she wondered if Oz knew the affect his words had on her. Happiness flooded through her and she gave the werewolf a bright smile. “Definitely,” Buffy agreed.<br/><br/>***<br/><br/>Oz walked Buffy to her car and they talked about various pop culture things. Thanks to her road trip, Buffy was actually pretty familiar with what was cool on the radio today – although Oz swore that she was listening to horrible contemporary songs and he’d better make some CDs for her in order to better educate her ears.<br/><br/>Finally, they agreed to do dinner again that night, since Buffy wasn’t sure how long she would be in town (not to mention, she still had so many questions about immortality). Unfortunately, her car didn’t start and after fifteen minutes of messing with it, they both gave up.<br/><br/>“Tow it to Mercy’s.” Oz suggested. “Maybe she’ll give you a vamp-dusting discount.”<br/><br/>Laughing heartily, Buffy agreed to have a tow truck take it there. “Not that I’m really hurting for money, but I do love deals.”<br/><br/>“I remember,” Oz said with a wry smile. “Although I’m sure a car deal is less exciting than a shoe deal.”<br/><br/>Buffy liked this, these easy conversations with Oz. When he had dated Willow she never got a chance to really hang out with him one-on-one like this. Before lunch today, Buffy feared it would be ‘weird’ and now she was thrilled it wasn’t. Since Xander’s death she had been pretty lonely. Willow’s betrayal meant Buffy had cut the witch out of her life, and now that Faith was with her, Buffy barely spoke to the other slayer. Dawn and Carlos had their own lives to lead. Giles…well, he was still always there for her but it pained her to see him aging. Every time she saw him she could feel the cruelty of Time forcing Giles closer towards death.<br/><br/>After the revelation that Buffy was immortal, she was even more so afraid to spend time with her friends and family. A part of her knew she should enjoy every prized moment with them, but it was hard. It was easier just to ignore them and thus ignore the idea of their mortality.<br/><br/>Pulling out her cell phone, Buffy punched in her AAA code to get some towing. After she made arrangements, she thanked Oz for lunch and the info on Mercy.<br/><br/>“I would go with you, but I have the Pack meeting. Tell Mercy I said hi.”<br/><br/>“Will do.” Buffy hesitated but then pushed ahead and gave Oz a hug. “Good seeing you,” she said, her voice soft against his ear. She still was confused and in pain about this immortality gig but Oz had just reminded her that she wasn’t alone.<br/><br/>“You too,” he said, just as softly, as his arms tightened around her.<br/><br/>***<br/><br/>Buffy rode along with the nice tow truck guy – kind of attractive in that boyish sort of way – and waved after he dropped her and the car off at Mercy’s. Frowning, she took in her dirty and banged up car. This Ford had lasted her from Rio, up through South and Central America, and across North America. She’d be damned if she let it die just now.<br/><br/>Strolling into the office, she gave the teenage boy sitting at the desk a friendly smile. He instantly reminded her of a young Carlos with his bronzed skin, warm brown eyes, and an aura of positive energy. <br/><br/>He smiled back. “Hi, I’m Gabriel. What can I help you with?”<br/><br/>“My Ford broke down and I had it towed here. A friend of Mercy’s recommended it – and I kind of met her last night – so I thought I’d bring it in,” Buffy explained. She grinned as she saw the boy take down detailed notes. He must be a great worker, she figured.<br/><br/>“Well, this shop works primarily on VWs, but Mercy or Zee can probably take a look at it,” Gabriel opined.<br/><br/>“Zee?”<br/><br/>“He owned the shop before Mercy but still comes in to help sometimes – the guy’s magic with a car.” Then, like what he said was particularly funny, Gabriel let out a big laugh. <br/><br/>“Yeah, Oz, said this was a good place to go to.” Buffy glanced around the office. It was pretty clean, considering it was a car repair place, and she wondered if Mercy hired a maid or something. <br/><br/>“Oz is your friend?” Gabriel grinned. “Oz is the coolest.”<br/><br/>Buffy laughed. She was sure that a laid-back guitar playing werewolf was usually perceived as cool. “Oz come around often?”<br/><br/>Gabriel snorted. “His van is on death’s door but he refuses to buy a new one. Said his has a lot of memories, dating all the way back to high school.”<br/><br/>High school…Buffy’s lips curled into a pleased smile. She would have to see his van, for old time’s sake. <br/><br/>“Hey Mercy!” Gabriel called as he opened the door that led to the garage. Instantly the sounds of metal clanking against metal floated through the doorway. “Got a broken car for you; some friend of Oz’s!”<br/><br/>“In a minute!” Mercy, Buffy presumed, called back.<br/><br/>Gabriel shut the door and motioned for Buffy to take a seat. “While we wait, I’ll get your information.”<br/><br/>“Uh.” Buffy and the other Council members rarely gave out their true names. Still, she didn’t want to falsify herself when Oz’s friend could easily find out who she was – that felt like lying. At the same time, she had to be careful. So Buffy gave Gabriel her fake name “Anne Elizabeth Winters”. <br/><br/>She smiled to herself. Giles had procured many false identification documents for them and he had scorned her name, saying it was too close to the real thing. But then Buffy put on her ‘blond’ act and said she couldn’t remember anything too complicated, and he had left her alone in a huff.<br/><br/>The thought of Giles sobered her. Her dad had died from a heart attack a few years back, before she and Dawn had reconciled with him, so Giles truly was the only parent she had left. Sure, he was in good health for his age, but he <em>was</em> aging. The day he died…well, Buffy didn’t know what she would do with herself.<br/><br/>“Anne?” <br/><br/>Jolted out of her thoughts, Buffy looked up to see the same coyote girl from last night staring at her. She wore jean overalls that were filthy and smelled like oil, and there was a smudge of dark liquid along her jawline. Her dark hair was braided back and her lips were pressed together – not a sneer, but definitely not a smile. Mercy’s body language declared she was wary of the slayer within her home – which puzzled Buffy because usually slaying vampires brings people together.<br/><br/>“That’s me,” Buffy smiled. She didn’t move from her chair, however; she wanted to wait and see what Mercy was all about.<br/><br/>“Gabriel,” Mercy gestured with a tip of her head at the teenager at the desk, “said you’re friends with Oz?”<br/><br/>“Yeah. Back from high school,” Buffy informed her.<br/><br/>That made Mercy pause and narrow her eyes at Buffy – dammit, she silently swore. If Mercy was the mate to the Alpha werewolf then of course she must know Oz pretty well…including how old he was. <br/><br/>Oh well. She didn’t have much to hide. Buffy doubted that Mercy or her pack mates were her enemies. <br/><br/>“Why don’t you head into the garage? Zee and I can push your car in and maybe you and I can talk about it.”<br/><br/>Somehow Buffy doubted that Mercy meant the car when she said ‘it’.<br/><br/>“Sure,” Buffy agreed.<br/><br/>She followed Mercy into the garage and then the coyote shut the door. A dozen feet away stood an older man, tall and skinny, with a pot belly under his shirt. He silently appraised her and she returned the favor. Taking in a deep breath, Buffy breathed in the scent of fae.<br/><br/>Dammit. She had just come here to get her car fixed and suddenly she had two supernatural creatures staring at her like they wanted to give her trouble. Her temper almost reacted, but Buffy yanked it back within her. The years had given her at least some wisdom.<br/><br/>“Why do I get the feeling you want to talk about something other than cars?” Buffy asked with a wry smile as she moved a little to the right. Instinct told her to make sure she had no one at her back, even a coyote.<br/><br/>“Why are you here, Slayer?” the fae spoke. Earlier Gabriel had said some guy named ‘Zee’ worked Mercy and she presumed this was him; suddenly his remark about Zee’s ‘magic’ with cars made a little more sense.<br/><br/>Except, she frowned, iron hurt fae (she knew this from experience). So how did he do it?<br/><br/>“Are you after the werewolves? Or fae?” Mercy prompted. Her tone was casual but it carried a flash of protective anger within it.<br/><br/>“Actually I’m after a werewolf—” Buffy began.<br/><br/>Mercy growled low in her throat and Buffy glared at her as she rolled her eyes. “Oz, to be specific. He’s an old friend and I needed to talk to him. I would never hurt him and I’m not here to bother any of yours.”<br/><br/>“Slayers have never been known to leave peace in their wake,” Zee commented mildly as he watched her.<br/><br/>“Yeah, tell me about it,” Buffy snorted. “The day I find peace will be a cold day in hell…er, something like that. There are lots of hells and I’m sure at least one of them is an ice hell,” she mused.<br/><br/>Mercy gave her an odd look. “Since last night I’ve heard about your kind. You seek out wolves and kill them – along with any other supernatural creature.”<br/><br/>“The Church used slayers for a while, long ago, to kill the fae in the lands they invaded,” Zee informed sourly. “They are death machines.”<br/><br/>“Then, not now,” Buffy snapped. Geez, she hated the old Council. “For the last twenty-two years my people and I have been in charge, and we’ve changed all that.” She turned to Mercy. “The only wolves I killed are ones who went after innocents, like the Beast of Gévaudan.”<br/><br/>Mercy balked at her tone and looked slightly ashamed of her accusations. <br/><br/>“As for the fae,” Buffy growled at Zee, “I only have an issue when they take one of mine.”<br/><br/>Apprehension dawned on Zee’s features. “You are the reason why the Grey Lords announced ourselves to the world.”<br/><br/>“It’s a bit harder for slayers to kill murders, rapists, and kidnappers when they’re citizens who will be missed,” Buffy commented in a severe tone. <br/><br/>She did not like fae. Okay, there were a couple low-powered okay ones, but they were not to be trifled with. Definitely Grade A baddies with a penchant for human flesh. But, now that they had reservations, she and the slayers stayed away – unless someone hurt one of their own.<br/><br/>“Do you plan on killing me, Slayer?” Zee asked. Power leaked into his voice and Buffy had an inkling that the elderly form he took now was just a cover to hide his power.<br/><br/>“Do you kill innocent humans?” Buffy asked with a raised brow.<br/><br/>“Not in many centuries,” Zee replied honestly.<br/><br/>“Then, no.” Exasperated, she turned to Mercy. “Did I pass your little test? I’m not here to kill anyone and really just need my car fixed.”<br/><br/>“Sorry,” Mercy apologized with a small smile. “We tend to get a lot of people around here who want to see me or someone else dead.”<br/><br/>“Understood.” Buffy shrugged as she crossed her arms. “I tend to have similar reactions on people.”<br/><br/>***<br/><em>Seattle, Washington</em><br/><br/>A low moan emitted from Drusilla’s red lips as last night’s vision flashed though her mind. All four of her darling children were dead, dead to the world. <br/><br/>Dead, dead, dead; dust in the wind. All as if they never had been.<br/><br/>Rising from her canopy bed, Drusilla performed a melancholy dance that whispered her sadness with each light shuffle of her foot. <br/><br/>It was that nasty slayer, blond and shining. Thief of hearts, thief of her darling Spike and Angelus.<br/><br/>Lightning quick, Drusilla’s hand grabbed a nearby porcelain doll with blond hair and she threw it to the floor. The crashing of the glass was like a million tiny screams.<br/><br/>Drusilla ever so liked screams.<br/><br/>She laughed suddenly and twirled in circles as the revelation struck her. The Slayer had not ventured into this country in years, not since she massacred almost every one of them. But now, she was here.<br/><br/>It was a sign.<br/><br/>Giggling, giddy with anticipation, Drusilla called for one of her minions. There was work to do.<br/><br/>And soon, very soon, she would hear the naughty Slayer scream and punish her for her misdeeds.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Alpha, Omega, & Slayer</h2></a>
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    <p>Oz pulled into the driveway, turned off his van, and pocketed his keys. He looked up at the house that would have made Cordelia Chase balk at the price tag and his lips twisted into a grim smile.<br/><br/>This had not been a good couple of years for the Columbia Basin Wolf Pack. Well, they hadn’t been <em>terrible</em> but they hadn’t exactly been sunshine and lollipops, either.<br/><br/>When Mercy Thompson, the coyote that Bran Cornick (Marrok of the North American wolves) had raised in his own pack, had moved to the Tri-Cities, Bran had given an order for Adam Haupton, the local Alpha, to keep an eye on her. Adam had done one better than that – he had built his mansion next to her couple acres of property and then had claimed her as his mate.<br/><br/>Oz remembered that story with a snort of amusement. For years Mercy had thought Adam had only claimed her as his mate so the other wolves wouldn’t bother her (wolves didn’t share territory with coyotes very well). And while that had been true, those closest to the Alpha knew he had a secret agenda that perhaps only his subconscious understood. Regardless, until Mercy had accepted Adam as her mate (just in the last week or so) there had been a hole in the metaphysical structure of the pack until she had accepted her role. Until then, Adam had consistently tried to use his own energy to cover that hole, which had left the pack weakened.<br/><br/>That hadn’t been Mercy’s fault – she hadn’t known. <br/><br/>Add onto their troubles of attacks by demon-possessed vampires and fae, and the pack wasn’t doing so well. Now Adam declared there was another enemy afoot and Oz was smart enough to be worried. With the werewolves ‘out’ and known to the public, they had to be careful to avoid attention. <br/><br/>With those thoughts in mind, Oz got out of his van and walked up Adam’s driveway. He could sense – and hear – that most of the thirty-odd pack members were already here. Music (The Ramones, care of the musical education he gave the Alpha’s daughter on the sly) could be heard from an upstairs bedroom; Jesse, Adam’s teenage daughter was apparently home.<br/><br/>Tension slammed into Oz as soon as he stepped inside the house. It was a tangible emotion that almost made him take a step back and he looked around the room. Werewolves (in human form) sat around the immense living room bickering or snapping nasty comments under their breath. His sensitive ears weren’t even necessary to understand what they were saying – they were upset that Mercy was finally a pack member.<br/><br/>Not everyone, fortunately, but most werewolves disapproved of a coyote in the pack. It was unnatural. <br/><br/>Right now the focus of the room seemed to be directed at Adam as he squared off against Paul (one of the more contentious wolves) in a verbal fight over whether Mercy should be allowed to be Pack. <br/><br/>Just looking at the white line that shined in Adam’s cheek as he clenched his jaw shut tightly made Oz realize if something didn’t happen soon, there would be violence. <br/><br/>Closing his eyes, Oz breathed in deeply. A scene of the Pacific Northwest forest appeared in his mind’s eye. Leafy trees supported by thin trunks clustered tightly together, like a family sharing a midnight meal. The landscape was dark but the silver moon shone down in slotted openings in the canopy. His wolf, a dark brown beast, howled as it weaved in and out of the trees, enjoying the soft, moist earth beneath his paws. <em>Peace</em> and contentment bled through him and into his pack, traveling along the connection he shared with each of them.<br/><br/>The voices quieted as they each entered his world.<br/><br/>To be quite frank, Oz had been weirded out by his status amongst the wolves in the beginning. When he had traveled to Sri Lanka to be trained how to deal with his curse, he couldn’t understand why all the other wolves loved — <em>loved </em> — to be around him. Finally his Alpha figured out that Oz was an Omega – a very rare kind of wolf who “brings happiness” into a pack. Omegas are part of pack but not part of the hierarchy. Instead, they are outside of it. They have no desire for power within the pack, so they are not an Alpha, but they are also not submissive. They just ‘are’.<br/><br/>After a few moments, Adam raised his head. Earlier his eyes had been yellow, a sign that his internal wolf was close to the surface. Now, however, he was calm and breathed out deeply. His lips curved into a smile. “Oz. Glad you are here.”<br/><br/>The other wolves, including Paul, opened their eyes and added their own greeting. Oz loved his pack of eight years and, regardless of their many issues, they were his family.<br/><br/>“Hey guys,” he greeted simply.<br/><br/>Darryl, Adam’s second, patted a space on the couch between him and his wife Auriele. Female pack members took their space in the hierarchy from their mates, so those two were the next highest in the pack after Adam. Auriele was beautiful, with caramel skin that showcased her Mexican background, and warm eyes that probably did wonders on the kids she taught in her high school chemistry classes. Darryl worked as a scientist at a major research lab and his handsome features harkened to his African and Chinese roots.<br/><br/>Some would think that a musician would have little in common with the couple. However, Oz was a child genius (just lacking ambition) so he had a lot to contribute to talks on science. Darryl and Auriele were good friends.<br/><br/>After Oz took his seat Adam began the meeting.<br/><br/>Fortunately, werewolves are certified in brevity, so Adam got straight to the point.<br/><br/>“Throughout history there have been many types of people – both supernatural and normal – who have hunted our kind. Last night Mercy ran into one of them.” Adam’s voice, calm a moment ago, became like steel; like any good Alpha, he was extremely protective of his pack.<br/><br/>Oz sat up a little straighter. Didn’t Buffy say she had met Mercy last night?<br/><br/>Adam looked each of them in the eyes. “We have a Slayer in our territory.”<br/><br/>Most of the wolves reacted with confusion but a few of the older one’s expressed outrage (although werewolves were immortal few wolves lived long due to dominance fights with other wolves – it made Oz glad he was an Omega and more peaceful than your average shapeshifter). <br/><br/>“We don’t know what she’s here for but she staked three vampires at Mercy’s last night. I’ve already spoken to the Marrok and he’s sending Charles here.” <br/><br/>Charles was the Marrok’s enforcer and his other son. Samuel was the Marrok’s eldest son and currently Mercy’s roommate…speaking of Samuel, Oz wondered where he was. The lone wolf was typically not invited to pack events, since he was not a member of this pack, but usually for big issues he made an appearance.<br/><br/>“I need everyone to be prepared. She may come after us. Regardless of her plans, the Slayer is a threat to the pack.”<br/><br/>Oz silently groaned. Oh Buffy…nothing was ever simple with her around; the thought brought a grin to his face before he wiped it away.<br/><br/>“Hey Adam?” Oz spoke up.<br/><br/>His Alpha turned to him with a raised eyebrow – no one was allowed to speak out of turn but fortunately Oz was an Omega and could bend the rules every once in a while. Besides, he needed to snip this in the bud.<br/><br/>“About the Slayer…she’s not a threat to the Pack. In fact, we had lunch today.”<br/><br/>The numerous dropped jaws around the room were almost enough to make Oz laugh – except, laughing at outraged werewolves was usually not a good idea.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Samuel Cornick was a very, very old wolf.<br/><br/>Among their kind, few were older than he and his father. Werewolves failed to live long, despite the gift of immortality.<br/><br/>“Gift,” Samuel scoffed. His large hands clenched the steering wheel tighter. The light in front of him, only a block from Mercy’s garage, turned red and he coasted to a stop. Crystal blue eyes closed momentarily as Samuel struggled to push his morose thoughts to the back of his head. <br/><br/>It was a difficult fight and one that he found himself engaged in more and more often. For years depression had been weighing upon his soul and Samuel was nearing his breaking point. Fifteen-hundred years was too long to live, in his opinion. <br/><br/>It was too bad that it was almost impossible to kill himself. He healed too rapidly and was the second-most dominant wolf in this country – with only his father out-ranking him – so no one would dare to deliver a death blow.<br/><br/>However, there was water…werewolves were inhumanly dense and immediately sunk to the bottom of a body of water. Yes, perhaps that was a way to go. After all, there was the Columbia River…<br/><br/>The light turned green and Samuel pressed the gas pedal down.<br/><br/>He knew that Zee offered to work with Mercy at the shop today in case the Slayer showed back up – otherwise Adam would have sent one of the pack members to bodyguard. So she wasn’t alone. But at the same time, Samuel couldn’t sit at home and wait for her to return. He worried too much – Mercy often yelled at him for being a control freak – and while he trusted the old German fae, Samuel would feel better when he saw Mercy with his own eyes.<br/><br/>Besides, Samuel was an old wolf – and that meant he had met a great deal of people in his long life. Including Slayers.<br/><br/>Yes, it would be much safer for Mercy if he was here.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Buffy settled herself on a black stool in Mercy’s garage and gave the coyote and fae a slight smile. About thirty minutes or so ago they had worked out the who’s and what’s of their situation, and Buffy was mightily glad no one wanted to kill her anymore. She bet they were pretty glad that Buffy wasn’t here to kill their people, too. In fact, now that they were all talking normal-like while the two of them looked at her beat-up Ford, Buffy had to admit she kind of liked Mercy and Zee.<br/><br/>Zee, who was bending over to inspect her engine, mumbled something angry-sounding in a harsh language – German, maybe? <br/><br/>“Uh-oh.” Buffy pursed her lips. “That doesn’t sound good.”<br/><br/>“This car is disgusting!” Zee spat. He raised his head to glower at her. “You need to take better care of your car! Fords are not like German cars, they cannot always bounce back.” Buffy noticed that when Zee got all riled up a hint of an accent appeared in his voice.<br/><br/>Mercy shot her a questioning look. “Just where have you driven this thing around anyways?”<br/><br/>Buffy’s nose crinkled as she thought back to all of her travels. “Well, I drove her up from Rio…”<br/><br/>Mercy and Zee shared a grave look as he pointed at something under her hood.<br/><br/>“That is a long drive. You may have driven her to death,” Zee solemnly stated.<br/><br/>Eying her car sadly, Buffy sighed. “Really?” she asked in a pleading voice. <br/><br/>“It doesn’t look good, but Zee can work on it today,” Mercy stated as she wiped her hands clean of oil on a gray rag.<br/><br/>“Oh I can, can I?” Zee called back gruffly.<br/><br/>For a moment Buffy thought the fae was serious, but then Mercy smirked and rolled her eyes. “Zee, you are the best. If anyone can do it, you can.”<br/><br/>Letting out a huff of air, Zee returned to his work on the car. “Well, of course I’m the best,” he grumbled quietly, but with a hint of pride.<br/><br/>“We’re pretty booked for the next couple days,” Mercy told her as she walked towards the slayer. “How long were you planning on being in town?”<br/><br/>Buffy shrugged. “Haven’t figured that one out yet. Oz and I are doing dinner tonight, and those were my only plans.”<br/><br/>Mercy gave her a look – not suspicious but definitely curious. “Is this the first time you’ve visited Oz? I’ve never heard of you before.”<br/><br/>“Yeah, it’s my first time,” Buffy said sheepishly. She had to admit, she felt a bit bad for sort of using him as her go-to immortal friend after not keeping in touch with him for about fifteen years. <br/><br/>“Hmm.” Mercy’s expression turned carefully neutral. “Oz is a standout guy. He’s well-liked by his pack and the community. He’s popular in the music scene and even does free music lessons to at-risk neighborhood kids. Any girl would be lucky to have him.”<br/><br/>Buffy’s eyes widened as she understood what Mercy was thinking. “Oh! Oh, uh, no.” Buffy laughed. “It’s not like that. I just need his help, from one friend to another.”<br/><br/>“Oh.” Mercy deflated a little. Then her sharp brown eyes inspected Buffy. “Wait, why wouldn’t you want Oz?”<br/><br/>Fighting back a laugh, Buffy smiled at Oz’s protective friend. “He used to date my best friend. That would be…weird.” She shrugged. “Be that as it may, I’m not looking for romance.” <br/><br/><em>Especially when this time next week, Xander will have been gone for ten years,</em> Buffy thought sadly.<br/><br/>“Sorry,” Mercy said with an apologetic smile. “Oz was seeing this music teacher at one of the elementary schools but when she found out he was a werewolf, she freaked.” A hard expression came over the coyote’s face. “I just hate seeing him alone. He’s been great to the pack, and to me.”<br/><br/>Nodding, Buffy agreed. “He is pretty great.” She laughed and shook her head. “The first time I met him was right after he took a bullet that almost hit my friend.” The image of Oz grasping his shoulder right after the Order of Taraka cop lady literally went gunning for Buffy at high school stood out in her mind. The moment had been awash with confusion as Buffy struggled to figure out who was attacking her, but she had taken second to realize that whoever the spikey-haired guy was, he was pretty cool.<br/><br/>“He took a bullet?” Mercy gasped. “Damn,” she commented with a shake of her head. “Hope it wasn’t silver.”<br/><br/>“Oh, no,” Buffy replied with another shake of her head. “That was during his pre-werewolf days.”<br/><br/>Mercy and Zee – who had apparently been following the conversation – gave Buffy a sharp look that made her immediately regret bringing up the fact that she had known Oz from high school.<br/><br/>“I did not realize Slayers aged so well,” Zee stated thoughtfully.<br/><br/>Crossing her arms defensively across her chest, Buffy shrugged. “Yeah, I’m like a fine wine, I guess. Just get better with age.”<br/><br/>“Funny. I would have thought that a murderer would age worse under the weight of their crimes.” A low, dark voice whispered.<br/><br/>Buffy pivoted around to face the new voice; moving seamlessly into a defensive posture. The man six-foot-plus figure loomed over her and he was built like a Chippendale’s dancer – although he was much more attractive, Buffy idly thought, than those dancers who usually were kind of weird looking. Blue-grey eyes were paling into a cold icy stare and his deeply set eyes glared at her with such hatred that she could feel it – or perhaps she was just overwhelmed by the feeling of his power washing over her.<br/><br/>Yeah, this dude just <em>reeked</em> of werewolf.<br/><br/>“Murderer?” she asked lightly, but her voice promised his title for her would be true if he pushed Buffy. “You’re the one lookin’ all roid’ed up and American werewolf in London psycho-kinda crazy.”<br/><br/>His nostrils flare and the werewolf took a step forward. “You, and all your kind kill innocents just because they’re not human.”<br/><br/>Buffy was so appalled at his accusation that she did something that was, in retrospect, kind of stupid – she met his eyes.<br/><br/>Now, Buffy and the rest of the new Watcher’s Council had run into their share of werewolves – both the big bad wolf types and the cute fluffy puppy types. Back in France Buffy had even needed to take on and kill the local Alpha, the Beast of Gévaudan. So she knew a lot about werewolves and their weird little rules. Unfortunately it was one thing to remember them and another to forget them when she lost her cool.<br/><br/>Werewolves take eye contact as a sign of dominance – if a wolf meets your eyes and they more ‘alpha’ than you, you’re supposed to lower yours. Hell, even non-wolves should not look a dominant wolf in the eyes – especially an angry one!<br/><br/>And this werewolf was definitely dominant and most definitely angry.<br/><br/>He rushed her and Buffy leapt to her right side, barely evading him. Like a stampeding rhinoceros, he couldn’t stop immediately but once he did he ran at her again. Buffy was ready for him this time and she fell purposefully to the ground and spun a kick against his ankles. The werewolf stumbled and fell, but he caught himself with his hands before his face could hit the floor. Knowing she didn’t want to kill the wolf but also not wanting to let him kill her, Buffy leapt onto his back performed a judo move that had him flipped onto his back and his limbs entangled with hers. She straddled his body and tucked her legs around his lower mid-section, effectively rendering his legs useless, and pinned his muscular arms to his sides.<br/><br/>Roaring at her when he realized she had him in an excellent lock-hold, Buffy saw his eyes flash and felt his body shook – Great, she thought, he’s going to change. Fighting a werewolf in human form is <em>way</em> easier than taking on an actually wolf with sharp-sharp teeth.<br/><br/>A second later Buffy’s only thought was <em>‘Hey! That’s cold!’</em>.<br/><br/>Cold water had been splashed over her and the werewolf like they were in a vaudeville comedy and both turned furious looks towards the culprit.<br/><br/>Mercy stared coolly at them as she grasped an empty grey mop bucket; although she carefully avoided direct eye contact. “Hey you idiots,” she huffed in her alto voice. “There’s no fighting in my shop, especially so close to my latest renovation baby. And <em>Samuel</em>? Buffy is alright and isn’t a slayer that kills innocent werewolves. She’s friends with Oz and checks out with me and Zee. So stop trying to kill my newest customer, okay?”<br/><br/>Buffy turned her gaze back to the soaking wet werewolf. His eyes were deepening in color and no longer looked like he was about to go all wolfy on her. Samuel – apparently that was his name – gave her a sheepish look that proclaimed his embarrassment. Then his eyes lowered and his expression became heated before he very quickly looked back into her face.<br/><br/>Glancing down, Buffy realized that the cold water coupled with a thin white tank did not lead to the best results and she quickly jumped off of him. Mustering her most haughty look – because that was easier than also recognizing how Samuel’s wet shirt clung to his pectoral muscles – Buffy directed a sneer in Samuel’s direction as she directed attention to her feet and crossed her arms protectively over her chest.<br/><br/>“These are brand new Jimmy Choos. And now they are soaking wet after kicking your ass. Way to go, Rambo,” Buffy stated dryly.<br/><br/>Samuel’s lips curled into a smile as he gazed down at her feet and then up the length of her body to Buffy’s face. His eyes glinted ice blue but the change passed after a moment. “Kicking my ass?” Samuel asked lazily with a raised brow. “I could have gotten out of that hold.”<br/><br/>Irritated, Buffy pursed her lips. She had been the slayer for a heck of a long time and no one could match her – now that wasn’t her ego talking, just the truth. It had been many years since she had faced a challenger equal or greater to her skills. “Yeah right,” Buffy scoffed. “I totally had you pinned. You’re just lucky that I didn’t hit any pressure points – which I would have if you moved.”<br/><br/>A low laugh sounded from Samuel’s lips and it was almost astonishing to Buffy how he could go from psycho-angry-killer-werewolf to playful puppy. “If you had moved quick enough to even hit me.”<br/><br/><em>Another</em> blow to the ego? Nuh-uh. “Really? Want a rematch?”<br/><br/>“Anytime,” Samuel grinned. And then…he <em>winked</em> at her!<br/><br/>“Alright,” Zee rumbled in his grizzly voice. “That’s enough of that. I’ll figure out what parts I need for Buffy’s Ford. Mercy, why don’t you take Buffy to Adam so he’s not sending any other werewolves at her. It wouldn’t be good for your mate to take on a slayer.”<br/><br/>Mercy, who had been watching Samuel and Buffy’s exchange with a curious expression, smiled as soon as she thought about Adam freaking out if he discovered she was hanging out with the big bad slayer in her garage. She loved pushing Adam’s buttons – it <em>was</em> pretty funny. Of course, Zee was right. The last thing they needed was for more wolves to attack Buffy. <br/><br/>“C’mon Buffy,” Mercy smiled. “Let me introduce you to my boyfriend, neighbor, and local Alpha.” She mentally rolled her eyes as she grabbed her phone – better to call Adam now to warn him before she brought an unknown person into her territory. “I hope Oz is with him. He’ll need to keep his cool when he’s around someone as dominant as you – and hopefully better than some people.” Mercy directed a look at Samuel; annoyingly he looked less embarrassed than he should have and…almost happy?<br/><br/>“Why would it help to have Oz around?” Buffy asked, puzzled.<br/><br/>“Oh, you’ll find out,” Mercy smiled.<br/><br/></p><p></p><div class="hr">
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Dining with Wolves and a Coyote</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They drove separately to Adam’s house.<br/><br/>Mercy had already offered Buffy a spare car to drive over the next couple days while Zee worked on her Ford, and now the slayer drove that car behind Sam and Mercy. Mercy could have, of course, been a nice hostess and ridden with Buffy in order to give her directions or, hell, driven her own car, but there was no way she was letting Samuel Cornick get away with what he had just pulled.<br/><br/>“Fight first, ask questions later – it’s always the same with you werewolves,” Mercy grumbled as she crossed her arms in the passenger seat and stared at her roommate and former boyfriend.<br/><br/>Samuel, appearing deep in thought as his blue eyes kept glancing up from the road to the rearview mirror to check on Buffy’s vehicle behind them, merely grunted in response.<br/><br/>“You know,” Mercy bit off – not truly angry but still wanting him to know what he did was not okay, “you could have just called me if you were worried. Maybe <em>ask</em> if I the big bad Slayer was hanging around before nearly wrecking my garage in a supernatural showdown.”<br/><br/>Samuel gave her his patented concerned-overprotective ‘look’. “Mercy, you’ve dealt with deadly fae, demon-possessed vampires, and other nasties in the last couple years. Do you really expect me to think that a human known for killing supernatural beasts <em>wouldn’t</em> stumble across you, little coyote?”<br/><br/>Mercy shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with the truth in Samuel’s words – but also irritated at being patronized like a little girl. “Yes,” she responded in an even tone – when arguing with a werewolf it was always best to remain calm. “But I always took care of myself. And sometimes, like with the demon, took care of <em>you</em>,” Mercy reminded him pointedly.<br/><br/>Giving her a grim smile, Samuel nodded. “Okay. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry.” His eyes suddenly focused entirely on the road in front of him. “You’re Pack, Mercy.”<br/><br/>Warmth settled over her and Mercy laid a hand on his arm. “You’re my Pack, too,” she replied softly.<br/><br/>Sometimes she forgot that she was all Samuel had, support-system-wise, at the moment. Worry flashed through her again and she hoped her words confirmed for him that he was one of <em>hers</em> and he better not ever do something stupid. Old wolves sometimes got tired of living and committed suicide…like her foster father.<br/><br/>Shaking herself out of her reverie, Mercy turned a new set of eyes onto Samuel. “Considering how you flirted with her, I guess you’re alright with the Slayer now?” Mercy asked lightly.<br/><br/>It would take more than mere teasing to force an old wolf to flinch but Mercy did see the skin at the corner of his eyes tighten slightly. “Flirting?” Samuel repeated with an easy smile. “What’s the matter Mercy – are you jealous?”<br/><br/>Mercy rolled her eyes. The two of them had kissed not too long ago and, after the complete boring lack of sparks, realized there was nothing between them but platonic love. “Don’t try to change the subject, Sam. Your shift in attitude was pretty drastic. Are you really okay with the Slayer?”<br/><br/>Samuel was silent. His eyes flickered at the rearview mirror, checking out Buffy driving behind them. Finally he answered her in a soft voice. “It’s been a while since I’ve been challenged – since my <em>wolf</em> had been challenged. I think we were both…intrigued. After it was determined she was no longer a threat,” Samuel added.<br/><br/>She filed away the word ‘intrigued’ as a synonym for ‘turned on’, considering she had watched Samuel’s eyes check out Buffy’s rendition of wet t-shirt night. Mercy gave him a careful look. “She’s a friend of Oz’s,” Mercy informed him. For some reason she felt obligated. Oz was a friend of hers and even though Buffy swore that she was not planning on dating the musician, Mercy felt like she should warn Samuel.<br/><br/>“Hmm. A challenge.” A ghost of a smile drifted onto Samuel’s lips, increasing as he glanced into the rearview mirror again.<br/><br/>“Oh god,” Mercy snorted. Then realization flashed across her mind. Samuel was competitive as hell, stubborn, and controlling. Poor Oz. “Don’t even treat Oz like you treated Adam,” she warned, thinking of how Samuel had originally come to the Tri-Cities to win her love over Adam.<br/><br/>Samuel laughed and Mercy silently marveled at her friend’s lighthearted response. She had been worried about Samuel so much lately…maybe Buffy was just the spark he needed to get back on track.<br/><br/><br/>****<br/><br/><br/>Buffy marveled at the freaking mansion-like house that sat on a lot right next to Mercy’s trailer. Honestly, this deserved to be the picture for the definition of ‘irony’ in the dictionary. Adam Hauptman’s home was elegant and refined, with plenty of space and a backyard that traveled into the nearby woods. It definitely looked like it could fit a pack of werewolves.<br/><br/>Speaking of which…Buffy’s nose crinkled in distaste as she could practically smell over a dozen werewolves inside the home. Her sense of smell was not very good but the overall supernatural ‘aura’ of a werewolf was enough to blink on her radar, so tons of werewolves? Yeah, definitely tingling up and down her spidey-senses.<br/><br/>“Afraid of the big bad wolves?” Samuel asked her in a teasing tone, his voice drifting from behind her.<br/><br/>Buffy fought a startled response – Sam was definitely good at sneaking up on people. Looking back, she saw him staring at her and Mercy walking up the driveway.<br/><br/>“Not if they’re like you. Then it’ll just be like dealing with a litter of puppies,” Buffy snarked back in reply.<br/><br/>Mercy gave the slayer a wry smile. “More like large and cranky puppies,” she corrected as she began to lead them up to Adam’s front door.<br/><br/>Buffy shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.”<br/><br/>Out of the corner of her eye she saw Samuel watching her with interest. “I would like to hear stories of ‘worse’ some time. I imagine you’ve seen a lot as the slayer.”<br/><br/>“<em>A</em> slayer,” Buffy corrected him automatically. “There hasn't been only one for a long time.” It was a fact that had required some getting used-to in the beginning, but that had been a twenty years ago and Buffy had dealt.<br/><br/>“I heard about that. About twenty years ago, right?” Samuel commented casually.<br/><br/>Buffy’s eyes narrowed. She really hated politics, especially supernatural politics. She could almost feel the werewolf trying to pry her age and her entire background out from her. Well, too damn bad for him. Considering he tried to kill her earlier, she wasn’t in a very sharing mood. <br/><br/>Samuel noted her silence on his question and pursed his lips thoughtfully.<br/><br/>Mercy walked up the Alpha’s front steps and knocked on the door. “Now play nice,” she stated sternly. “Nothing worse than a bunch of dominants trying to piss all over themselves trying to prove they’re the biggest and baddest.”<br/><br/>Buffy laughed. She liked Mercy’s attitude. “Bet you have to see that a lot, hanging around with wolves all the time.”<br/><br/>“More than I’d like,” Mercy snorted.<br/><br/>The tan cedar door opened, revealing a dark-haired man whose size was barely contained by the door frame; although he was slightly under six feet he was built like a wrestler. His eyes went to Mercy first, then Buffy. An unreadable expression shadowed his face and he nodded towards her. <br/><br/>“Between Oz and Mercy it seems we’ve heard a bit about you. Welcome to the Tri-Cities, Slayer. I am Adam Hauptman, Alpha of the Columbia Basin Pack. Welcome.” His voice was rich and deep; it carried great authority.<br/><br/>“Thanks,” Buffy said flippantly. Ugh, she hated politics and being all proper. It just wasn’t her. “And you can call me Buffy, by the way. Slayer sounds so death metal band.”<br/><br/>The corner of Adam’s lip quirked up. “Buffy, then.” He glanced at Samuel and Mercy. “Come on, let’s go inside to talk. I sent the pack home, except for Oz.”<br/><br/>Buffy’s eyes brightened. “Oz is here? Awesome.” That meant the evening wouldn’t be quite so awkward.<br/><br/>She failed to notice the way Samuel’s eyes paled slightly at her enthusiasm.<br/><br/>She followed Mercy and Adam into the house, and immediately was in awe. The living room had vaulted ceilings and a white Berber carpet; it looked so soft that Buffy almost wanted to take her shoes off. The furniture was finely crafted and the artwork on the walls looked to be originals, so Buffy presumed that Adam was doing pretty well for himself. <br/><br/>Now she was beginning to think that Oz was being serious about werewolves all creating investment portfolios. Crap. Maybe she needed to start one, too.<br/><br/>“Come on back to the dining room,” Adam called over his shoulder. “I started grilling earlier in preparation for the pack meeting – and when that ran short we ended up with some leftovers.”<br/><br/>So they just had a pack meeting? Buffy smirked and wondered if it was about the ‘big bad slayer’. Jeez, slayers were like child actors – in that everyone thought of the early years. People remembered them for being the mass murdering machines of the Watchers Council and no one seemed to pay attention to the fact that, hey, they only killed evil monsters.<br/><br/>Buffy’s eyes bugged out a little once they entered the dining room, complete with a fancy china cabinet and a table that seated fifteen. “Host a lot of dinner parties?” she commented with a smile as Adam gestured for them all to sit.<br/><br/>Adam gifted her with a sudden smile. “Being the Alpha means always keeping my home open to my pack – which tends to usually include food.”<br/><br/>“Speaking of,” Samuel said with a nod of his head as Oz came in from the back yard carrying a tray of hamburgers fresh from the grill.<br/><br/>“Hey,” Oz greeted them. He set the burgers at the end of the table, near everyone’s seat. “Dig in.”<br/><br/>The coyote and wolves began loading their plates with burgers and all the works, appearing extremely comfortable here. Buffy hated to admit it, but she suddenly felt like an outsider. After all, she had been avoiding large groups of people for a while now, so this was definitely different.<br/><br/>“Buffy, help yourself. I thought it would be good to eat before we talk,” Adam prompted her.<br/><br/>“Werewolves,” Mercy sighed with a roll of her eyes grinning all the while. “It’s always about food with them.”<br/><br/>“I’d rather be obsessed with food than that decaying beast of yours out there,” Adam growled good-naturedly.<br/><br/>“Beast?” Buffy repeated cautiously. In a town full of fae, wolves, vampires, and coyotes, she was ready to expect anything.<br/><br/>Oz and Samuel laughed while Mercy smiled sweetly in her mate’s direction. “The ‘beast’ that Adam is referring to is my dear Rabbit that I am slowly – ever so slowly – fixing.” She grinned at Buffy and explained. “This ‘control freak’ over here needs to learn his lesson so I began stashing my Rabbit right in the line of sight of his bedroom window a while back. At this point it’s been spray-painted, has lost three wheels, and is the ugliest car out there.”<br/><br/>Mercy and Adam began bickering but Oz, sitting next to Buffy, whispered to her. “Is something wrong with the food?”<br/><br/>Buffy winced. Her mother had trained her to have good table manners and accept the food of her hosts, but this was a little much for her. “Um, I think you guys forgot that super rare burgers aren’t usually the best for people who don’t shift into four legs under the full moon.”<br/><br/>No use whispering around a bunch of supernatural people. “Sorry Buffy,” Oz apologized. “Habit. Here, I’ll put a couple back on the grill.”<br/><br/>“No, that’s okay—”<br/><br/>Amber eyes gave her a stern look. “It’s no big deal. I’ll be right back.” Oz exited into the backyard with the tray of burgers once more.<br/><br/>Great, so now she was back with the strangers again. Well, Mercy felt less like a stranger after the conversation in the shop. But still.<br/><br/>“So what brings you to the city, Buffy?” Adam asked.<br/><br/>Buffy carefully noted how he seemed to be the one taking charge of the conversation. Maybe that was because he was the Alpha?<br/><br/>“She’s here to visit Oz, Mr. Fifty Questions.” Mercy rolled her eyes. “Let the girl eat, Adam.”<br/><br/>Buffy inwardly laughed. It was cute that the late twenties coyote thought Buffy’s forty-two year old self was ‘a girl’. <br/><br/>Oz returned quickly and Buffy set to eating, listening to the small talk that flittered around the table. She observed how Oz would glance at her often to make sure she felt okay, which she appreciated. However, she was less sure how she felt about Samuel’s eyes traveling to her so often during dinner. He was hot, yeah, but she trusted him about as far as she could throw him – and since a wolf’s density was crazy intense, she knew it wouldn’t be a far throw.<br/><br/>Once they were finished eating Adam began clearing the table and spoke to her in a casual tone.<br/><br/>“So, Buffy, do you plan on staying here long?”<br/><br/>“Haven’t really thought that far in advance,” Buffy shrugged. “Right now my car is at Mercy’s garage waiting for Zee to bring her back to life.” A calendar featuring artists’ rendering of wolves running through an open field caught her eye. Remembering what next week was, she added, “But I’ll be heading to California next week, so hopefully the car will be fixed by then.”<br/><br/>“What’s in California?” Samuel asked curiously.<br/><br/><em>My fiancé’s grave site</em>, Buffy thought scornfully. See, that was why she avoided people – they asked too many questions. Maybe she was wrong about coming here and being all social.<br/><br/>“Personal,” Buffy replied. She gave the werewolf a hard look, silently warning him against pushing further on that topic.<br/><br/>She felt Oz’s arm brush against her elbow and instantly Buffy felt herself relaxing. She was just being cranky on account of being attacked twice in two days and dealing with the powerful auras of a bunch of shape shifters – goddess knew that the stronger the creature, the more powerful their aura. She could tell that not only was the Alpha powerful, but so was Samuel; and the feel of it took some getting used to.<br/><br/>“We should make plans while you’re here. The Columbia River and forests are beautiful,” Oz offered.<br/><br/>“Yeah, the river is right behind Adam’s house – the view more than makes up for my Rabbit,” Mercy added with a wide smile in her mate’s direction.<br/><br/>“That might be fun,” Buffy stated casually. Her emotions were so out of whack this close to the anniversary of Xander’s death that she couldn’t trust herself to socialize too much. “I might just hang out in my room for a bit, too; it’s been a hectic road trip.”<br/><br/>“Where are you staying?” Adam queried. “One of the downtown hotels?”<br/><br/>“The Ritz,” Buffy answered. <br/><br/>Mercy shared a glance with her mate. “You’d be more than welcome to stay at Adam’s,” Mercy offered graciously. “He’s got three extra bedrooms.”<br/><br/>“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Buffy said with a wave of her hand. “I wouldn’t want to impose – especially,” she added with a mild smirk, “when I’ve already had one werewolf attack today.”<br/><br/>Adam’s lips twitched; Buffy presumed that Mercy had probably called him. Oz, it seemed, did not know.<br/><br/>“When? Who?” Oz asked intensely, his green eyes alert. <br/><br/>Buffy jerked her thumb over to Samuel, who was looking very put-out. <br/><br/>“Why did you attack Buffy?” Oz asked, his calm voice hinting at something much darker.<br/><br/>“Easy, Omega. It was all a misunderstanding,” Samuel said with a genial look. “We’re both fine.”<br/><br/>Oz nodded, but he didn’t appear satisfied. However, Buffy was touched by his reaction – it was nice to have someone watching her back again. It had been a long time since someone really cared.<br/><br/>Then she repeated Samuel’s words in her head and remembered overhearing Adam say to to Oz on the phone earlier. “Omega? Why do people keep calling you that? Isn’t that a frat word?”<br/><br/>“It is a Greek word,” Oz said nonchalantly.<br/><br/>Adam looked around the room at the other shifters with a questioning look. Feeling satisfied with what he saw, he turned to Buffy. “We don’t usually speak of wolf things to an outsider, but maybe we can share a few secrets together.”<br/><br/>Buffy understood that he wanted to learn more about the slayers. Considering that the wolves were more likely to kill any slayer they found since they thought slayers killed all wolves, maybe it would be helpful to spell a few things out. She glanced at Oz for confirmation that this was a good idea and saw him nod slightly.<br/><br/>“Alright, we can work that angle. So. Omega?”<br/><br/>Adam went on to explain that Omegas were very rare werewolves who existed outside of pack structure, not dominant or submissive, and brought happiness and satisfaction to any wolf that encountered him or her. Also, apparently Samuel’s new sister-in-law, Anna, was an Omega.<br/><br/>Buffy grinned at the revelation. “Really not surprised that the master of zen over here is an Omega wolf. Heck, he was even cool and collected when our Mayor turned into a giant demon snake.”<br/><br/>Three pairs of eyes darted over to Oz, widening in shock.<br/><br/>“Oz…your mayor turned into a giant…demon…snake?” Mercy asked with a jaw-dropping look.<br/><br/>“It’s a long story,” Buffy prefaced.<br/><br/>“He was evil. Buffy blew him up.” Oz’s eyes glinted with amusement but his facial expression was otherwise devoid of emotion.<br/><br/>“Apparently not that long,” Buffy amended with a sly smile.<br/><br/>Those same three pairs of eyes swiveled back to her.<br/><br/>“You blew up a demonic snake?” Samuel repeated, sounding impressed by her deeds.<br/><br/>Buffy shrugged. That was ancient history. Well, awesome ancient history, but ancient nonetheless.<br/><br/>“Sounds like you’ve been holding back on us, Oz,” Adam remarked with a grin.<br/><br/>“It’s probably because telling stories involves talking, and that’s not very Oz-like,” Buffy teased.<br/><br/>Oz’s lips twisted in a smile. “I talk.” <br/><br/>The table erupted into light laughter. As the night passed, Buffy grew more comfortable with the shifters and ending up recounting some of their Sunnydale years with Oz. She even told them about the First Evil and why they awoke the slayers, but she left out the details. After all, she wasn’t very good at trusting people…<br/><br/>Because once your best friend in the world backstabs you, you learn that trust is a pretty meaningless thing.<br/><br/></p><p></p><div class="hr">
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</div><p><br/>Captured in dreams of gleaming yellow eyes and Xander’s transformed visage, Buffy was unable to gain much sleep that night. Eventually she tired of lying in her hotel bed and got out of bed once the sun rose. She spent time in the Ritz’s gym and pool, working her body until even her supernatural muscles were crying in pain, and proceeded to watch some morning news shows. <br/><br/>Yes, she was that bored and tired that she was watching the news. Oh, how Giles would clean his glasses and shake his head at that.<br/><br/>Lounging in bed, Buffy went over her options for the day. She could go shopping…except shopping made her suddenly think of Xander would roll his eyes and groan whenever she would tell him she had to make “just one quick stop!” whenever they passed a mall. Feeling wounded, Buffy bit her lip and curled her legs against her chest. Okay, so no shopping then.<br/><br/>Her cell phone rang and Buffy stared at it for a moment, debating on answering (she honestly wasn’t in the mood), but then she saw that it was her niece.<br/><br/>“Hey Sofia, how’s my favorite girl doing?” Buffy asked with a smile. She hadn’t spoken to her family or friends very much at all since the big ‘immortal’ revelation a couple months ago; it was too bittersweet to realize that she would have to watch the people she love die one by one.<br/><br/>Buffy blinked back sudden tears and forced herself to continue smiling so Dawn’s daughter could not hear anything wrong in her voice.<br/><br/>“Aunt Buffy!” Sofia greeted cheerfully. “Are you up yet? I was hoping you were up. I mean, it’s like five o’clock here so it’s gotta be morning over there by now, right?”<br/><br/>Buffy winced at listening to the speed of Sofia’s speech; it was like all teenagers were coded to speak as quickly as a hummingbird’s wings. “Yup, I’m up. Just got done with a workout. What’s the what?”<br/><br/>Silently, Buffy wondered if Dawn or Carlos had told their three daughters about Buffy’s issue. Dawn, ironically, was incredibly protective of her daughters and made them on a need-to-know basis for almost everything supernatural-related. The irony lie in the fact that Dawn had been amazingly nosy as a teen and who would have thought her daughters would end up the same way?<br/><br/>Buffy smirked.<br/><br/>“It’s <em>Mom</em>,” Sofia groaned. “I got my acceptance letter to Berkeley and she doesn’t want me to go. She wants me to go to stupid Oxford like her and dad.”<br/><br/>“You know she just worries about you leaving. We don’t have any slayer bases in America anymore and you could be at risk,” Buffy reasoned. While she normally encouraged rebellion, she had seen too many deaths over the long years and never wanted anything to happen to her family.<br/><br/>Sofia whined childishly and Buffy chuckled, feeling warmth free up her heart from its earlier coldness. “But Aunt Buff<em>y </em>, you have to talk to her! I mean, I’m already showing a lot of growth in my witchcraft and there is an awesome coven in San Francisco that could help me with protection spells.”<br/><br/>Further in the background, Buffy could hear Dawn’s voice. “Sofia, who are you talking to?”<br/><br/>“Aunt Buffy!” Sofia called back. <br/><br/>There was a rustling sound and suddenly Dawn’s breathless voice sounded through the phone. “Buffy.”<br/><br/>“Hey,” Buffy responded quietly. She felt bad about taking off from the Council after Willow diagnosed her condition without talking to Dawn, but she knew Giles would fill Dawn in on the situation. <br/><br/>“How are you?” Dawn inquired quietly, like she was talking to a dying person.<br/><br/><em>Which couldn’t be farther from the truth…</em><br/><br/>“Good.” A small but sincere smile stretched along her lips. “Actually, I’m visiting Oz in Washington.”<br/><br/>“OZ?” Dawn shouted. <br/><br/>Buffy snorted with laughter, drawing a comparison between teenager Dawn and late-thirties Dawn – there really weren’t that many differences at times. <br/><br/>“Yeah. Decided to stop by and see him.”<br/><br/>“Been a long time.”<br/><br/>“Yup.”<br/><br/>After a thoughtful pause, Dawn continued. “Ah…aren’t werewolves immortal? I could have sworn I read that somewhere…” There was the sound of fingers clacking away on a keyboard and Buffy instantly knew her sister was in research mode on her laptop.<br/><br/>“Glad to see the Assistant Director of the Watchers Council still is down with her book knowledge,” Buffy commented drolly.<br/><br/>“Shut up.” Buffy could almost imagine the scowl lining Dawn’s face. “So how is he?” Dawn asked. <br/><br/>“Real good, actually. He has a nice pack here and they all seem to like him – which is good, because once they found out our connection they were real friendly to me. By the way, have you ever heard of an Omega wolf?” Buffy added.<br/><br/>Dawn let out a bark of laughter. “Sure, there’s a lot of lore on werewolves, and the Omegas are like one of their fairy tales – so super special wolf that gives off warm fuzzies.”<br/><br/>Buffy smiled from ear to ear – wasn’t too often that she one-upped Dawn on knowledge. “So you think they’re not real?”<br/><br/>“No.” This time Buffy could almost hear Dawn’s eyes rolling around in her sockets.<br/><br/>“Ah, how strange,” Buffy mused in a soft voice with a Cheshire Cat grin. “Because apparently Oz is one.”<br/><br/>“WHAT?” <br/><br/>Buffy laughed and the coldness retreated further from her heart. She spoke to Dawn for a while longer, giving her the scoop, before finally hanging up so Dawn could make dinner.<br/><br/>With her melancholy on a reprieve, Buffy decided to walk around Kinnewick, the southern part of the Tri-Cities where she was staying, and go find her old friend the Omega.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Don’t Mess with Divorce Lawyers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Buffy parked her ‘rental’ car – courtesy of Mercy while she waited for her Ford to be fixed – outside the brick building numbered 1304 Billings Street. It was tall and skinny, smushed between two larger apartment buildings. This was Oz’s music store, studio and; on the second floor, his home.<br/><br/>She heard music as soon as she stepped outside the car. Buffy grinned. Suddenly she was reminded of hanging out in the school courtyard with the Scoobies while Oz fiddled with his guitar. <br/><br/>Of course, Scooby time at school immediately made her think of Willow…Buffy’s smile evaporated at the thought. <br/><br/>Sometimes she wondered if she was too hard on Willow. A decade had passed and Buffy still hated her former witchy friend. Willow had tried, of course, to make amends but Buffy had made it clear to her that she didn’t give a damn.<br/><br/>But sometimes she did. Like right now. She knew that Willow, regardless of the ‘Gay Now’, still thought of Oz as an important figure in her life at a key period. Willow would have loved to learn all the Oz gossip. In fact, Buffy could totally see Willow smiling happily as she explained the ‘Omega’ deal and thinking, just like Buffy, how that fit Oz to a ‘t’.<br/><br/>Buffy sighed. Whatever. It didn’t matter. Even if she sometimes wished for a moment like that, the feeling was few and far between. Willow had destroyed Buffy’s future when she staked Xander. Buffy wanted nothing to do with her.<br/><br/>But! Happy thoughts. Buffy forced a smile on her face. She had already done the “woe is me, lack of mortality” song for Oz and he didn’t deserve a sad Buffy. <br/><br/>A glass panel surrounded by an oak door frame greeted her at the entrance with the signs “Music Store” “Guitar Lessons” and “Open”.<br/><br/>Buffy laughed suddenly – she realized that there was no name for Oz’s business. He just marketed himself as “Music Store”. Somehow she was not surprised that her succinct friend would have a simple marketing strategy.<br/><br/>A bell jingled when she opened up the door, but it was drowned out by three teenage boys playing on guitars. Oz’s back was to her and Buffy hoped she wasn’t interrupting. <br/><br/>The music died off once there was a terrible screeching sound from one of the guitarists and Oz raised his hand.<br/><br/>“James, watch out for that diminished ninth. That’s a man’s chord. You could lose a finger.” <br/><br/>Buffy could hear the smile in his voice.<br/><br/>“Dude, I swear I will conquer this chord!” James promised. He was lanky with sun-kissed hair. Buffy could see him playing a guitar by the beach. Too bad there were no beaches around here.<br/><br/>Oz chuckled. “You will. You’re halfway there. Take this song home, all of you, and come back next week ready to rock.”<br/><br/>The three boys laughed and began to chat about their plans while they packed up their instruments. Oz turned to her with a slight smile. “Here for lessons?”<br/><br/>“Yeah right!” Buffy laughed. “I can’t do instruments but I can slay….” The boys spotted her and appeared interested. “Ah—”<br/><br/>“You can <em>lay</em> down a nice beat in the DJ booth?” Oz finished. His lips curved slightly and his eyes sparkled with amusement.<br/><br/>The students heard him. “Whoa Oz, you have a DJ friend?” This boy was about Oz’s height and also had dyed electric blue hair. Huh. Looked like Oz had a fan. That was cute.<br/><br/>“Umm…”<br/><br/>“Buffy’s a burgeoning DJ,” Oz explained. “Buffy; James, Tyler, and Ronan.”<br/><br/>Buffy smiled at the boys.<br/><br/>“Sweet, yo!” Tyler, the blue-haired boy shouted. “Hey, um, maybe once we start practicing and record a song you can play it?”<br/><br/>“Oh, well…”<br/><br/>“First things first – master the diminished ninth this week. Then we’ll see,” Oz said with an enigmatic smile.<br/><br/>“Cool!” The boys said their good-byes and left, the bell ringing in their wake.<br/><br/>“I’m a DJ?” Buffy asked with an arched brow.<br/><br/>Oz shrugged. A smile played along his lips as he began pushing the wooden stools the boys had been using underneath a shelf. “If you’re going to live forever, you should have a hobby,” he commented.<br/><br/>Buffy let out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, okay. I’m going to be a musician-type person.” She rolled her eyes. “My band teacher in fifth grade actually encouraged my mother to just enroll me in two choir classes instead of band.” She frowned. “Not that my singing was very good either. My choir teacher, Mr. Outerman, told me – after I bugged him – that I didn’t get a solo in the Christmas play because I sang “so loudly that I needed to be in the choir to encourage others”. It wasn’t until I was older I realized that was a nice way of saying I sucked.”<br/><br/>Oz chuckled softly and lounged back on a black upholstered Lazy-Boy with a crimson acoustic guitar in his hands. “Didn’t you once kill demons with your voice?”<br/><br/>“Huh?” Buffy asked, bewildered. She was forty two. There had been a <em>lot</em> of demons in her life.<br/><br/>“When you all were in Tibet searching out that sorcerer, Xander updated me on Scooby stories afterwards. Something called the…Gentlemen?” Oz’s brows rose, as if he wasn’t sure about the name – or even the story.<br/><br/>Buffy burst out laughing. “Oh yeah.” She smiled wistfully – and you knew you had a pretty damn crazy life if voice-stealing demons made you wistful of days past. Without further encouragement, Buffy began to talk about that incident, even going so far as to tell Oz about her futile attempts to hand gesture to the Scoobs about the need to ‘stake’ the demons – which looked a lot like a hand job gesture.<br/><br/>Soon enough, both of them were laughing and telling stories. Sure, Oz more of a listener then storyteller, but he had some good ones too. There was a black love seat nestled in between a drum set and a shelf of sheet music that Buffy lounged in while Oz sat in his chair and absentmindedly strummed his guitar. <br/><br/>“So what made you decide to open up a music store anyways?” Buffy asked after a while.<br/><br/>Oz looked around at his collection of instruments and equipment. He shrugged. “I needed to do something. Sometimes…It can be easy to forget who you are when everything changes but you. It’s my way to feel connected.”<br/><br/>Buffy nodded. She got that. “If I didn’t have the slayers, I don’t know what I would have. They keep me connected.” Even now, regardless of distance, she knew that if she opened up that part of herself she would be able to feel them.<br/><br/>“And you have your family,” Oz pointed out.<br/><br/>“Yeah…” Buffy shrugged. “I dunno. I stopped being close with them after…”<br/><br/>“Xander.”<br/><br/>“Yeah.”<br/><br/>“Why?”<br/><br/>Buffy shrugged uncomfortably again. “I went on a rampage against all the yellow-eyed vampires in the U.S. Giles warned me not to give in to my lust for revenge, but I took out the Slayer Scythe and went to town. It didn’t help that I hated – no, despised – Willow. And most people had her back during our arguments.”<br/><br/>“Really?”<br/><br/>“Yeah,” Buffy nodded. “Giles agreed with her decision. Faith was, whatever, but I think it was her feelings for Willow that had Faith side with her. Dawn and her husband Carlos…they weren’t happy about it, especially Dawn, but she understood Willow’s reason,” Buffy explained in a hard voice.<br/><br/>Oz strummed in silence for a while. “Will you ever forgive her?”<br/><br/>… “No.” <br/><br/>He must have sensed the anger emanating from her. Buffy couldn’t help but get super cranky on this subject. “Back to your new hobby. Here.” Oz got up to hand the guitar to her. <br/><br/>“Ahh…no. That’s okay,” Buffy said hastily. “I wouldn’t want to make music so bad the wolves start howling.” She flashed Oz a grin, which he returned.<br/><br/>“Just try.”<br/><br/>“Hmmph.” Buffy took the guitar anyways…because to be honest she was interested. She strummed the strings once, noticing how cool the vibration felt against her hand. It brought a smile to her face unexpectedly. Her fingers glided against the taut strings twice more, enjoying the sounds emanating from her actions.<br/><br/>“You’re a natural,” Oz promised with a lopsided grin.<br/><br/>“Hmm.” Buffy’s brow rose questioningly. “This part is okay. The action learning how to actually play sounds less fun.”<br/><br/>Oz’s expression turned thoughtful. “Ah. I see.”<br/><br/>Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “See what?” she demanded.<br/><br/>He shrugged, his green threadbare tee shifting over his slim body. “You don’t like the challenge of it.”<br/><br/>“Hmmph.” Buffy snorted distastefully. “I never said <em>that</em>.”<br/><br/>“Of course,” Oz affirmed placidly. <br/><br/>Scowling at him, she sat up straighter and held the guitar against her chest. “Fine then. Show me something.”<br/><br/>A secretive smile wove its way onto Oz’s lips as he obliged with a lesson on the “G” major chord.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Buffy’s ringing cellphone – an upbeat dance tune – interrupted her first guitar lesson near the end of the hour. “Hello?” she answered, fumbling a little with a guitar before setting it on her lap.<br/><br/>“Buffy, hey,” came Mercy’s voice. “There’s an issue with your car.”<br/><br/>“Oh.” Dread gathered in her gut. She loved that car. “What?”<br/><br/>“It’s kind of…dead.”<br/><br/>“Really?” Buffy asked faintly. Damn. Now she would need to actually purchase a rental (nice as she was, Buffy doubted that Mercy would let her borrow a car forever) or buy a new car. She had to be in L.A. in next week. Of course, she supposed she could fly, but being stuck around strangers aggravated her. There was something about driving that allowed her to lose herself in her thoughts that she preferred.<br/><br/>“Really. I’m sorry, Zee and I tried everything but…” And then Mercy went on to explain all the problems with the engine but Buffy wasn’t really listening. She hated talking about car things. It bored her.<br/><br/>“But there are some decent rental agencies out here. We get a lot of tourists who stop through to explore the state parks so a long-term request shouldn’t be unusual.” <br/><br/>“Nah. I think I’d feel better buying a new car.” Buffy grinned eagerly. Actually, that sounded not so bad…shopping time ahead!<br/><br/>“Oh, okay. Well, just remember to actually get oil changes done next time,” Mercy suggested, a hint of dry humor in her voice.<br/><br/>“Will do.” Buffy rolled her eyes. Sue her, she had a lot of stuff going on. Car maintenance wasn’t exactly a priority. “Thanks Mercy. I’ll stop by later today to pay.”<br/><br/>“No problem, Buffy. See you.”<br/><br/>Buffy turned the call off with the press of a button on her high tech smart phone. She still had a big smile on her face as she pondered what color and style to get her new car in.<br/><br/>“So…not sad about the dead car?” Oz asked with a perplexed furrow of his brows.<br/><br/>“At first. It was a good car. <em>But</em> now I get to buy a new car, and shopping is very therapeutic.” Buffy held up the acoustic guitar she had been playing. “Where should I put this?” <br/><br/>Oz waved her question away. “Keep it.”<br/><br/>“What? No.” Buffy shook her head forcefully.<br/><br/>“It’s a gift. Practice.”<br/><br/>Pursing her lips, Buffy looked down at the guitar. “But I suck.”<br/><br/>Oz chuckled. “Everyone sucks at first. Besides, you’ve got years to master it.”<br/><br/>“Hmm.” Buffy supposed he was right. And surprisingly, she really liked playing the guitar. It was cool to do something with her hands that didn’t involve death. Plus, music is pretty – mmmkay, not <em>her</em> music, not yet. But still.<br/><br/>“I should pay for it, at least,” Buffy offered. “I mean, you listened to all my problems and helped me find a mechanic, and helped so the local werewolves didn’t try to make war and try to kill me. I can’t accept this.” She smiled wryly. “I’m not the same poor college kid you used to know.”<br/><br/>He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Me either.” Oz grinned. “Investment portfolio, remember?”<br/><br/>Buffy laughed loudly and nodded her assent. “Okay then. Prezzie accepted.”<br/><br/>Oz handed her a guitar case and she put it away lovingly, even petting it once or twice. “Hmm. I should give her a name.” She shot him a look. “People do that, right?”<br/><br/>Oz nodded, the ghost of a smile on his face, as if he were trying not to laugh too loudly at her.<br/><br/>“Hmm. Maybe Betsy?”<br/><br/>Oz made a choking sound.<br/><br/>“What?” Buffy asked, appalled. <br/><br/>“Betsy?” he questioned with a raised brow and open smile. <br/><br/>“Yeah, what’s so wrong with that? People name things ‘Betsy’ all the time,” Buffy stated, miffed.<br/><br/>“Exactly.”<br/><br/>“Hmm.”<br/><br/>“Name her ‘Joan’.”<br/><br/>Joan…why did that sound familiar…“Why?”<br/><br/>“Joan Jett. Queen of Rock and Roll. Amazing guitarist.”<br/><br/>Buffy’s lips curled into a smile. “Joan”, she whispered experimentally. She liked that. “Joan it is.” Buffy locked up the guitar case and pulled Oz into a big hug. He was about her height, which was nice because she could fold her chin into the crook of his neck instead of feeling like she had to reach up on her tippy-toes. “Thank you.”<br/><br/>Oz hugged her back tightly. “You’re welcome.”<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Buffy drove to Mercy’s garage, waved hi to Gabriel at the reception area, and greeted Mercy with a happy smile – she was already imagining what her new car would be. Giles’ middle-age-crisis mobile came to mind and she couldn’t help but decide shiny and red was the way to go. Of course, it bothered her slightly to think that <em>she</em> was middle-aged now, youthful appearance notwithstanding. <br/><br/>When she told the skinwalker her plans, Mercy gave her a skeptical look.<br/><br/>“What?” Buffy asked, a wry smile on her face. <br/><br/>“Shiny and red are not good qualities in a car, Buffy,” Mercy stated dryly.<br/><br/>Buffy stuffed her hands in her pockets and leaned against a tool table. “You’re right. Shiny and green would be better.” She smirked.<br/><br/>Mercy clenched her eyes shut. “Oh god. You are one of <em>those</em> females,” she teased.<br/><br/>“Hey, just because I can make mincemeat out of the undead doesn’t mean I don’t have a fashion sense,” Buffy remarked with a grin.<br/><br/>Mercy guffawed loudly and rolled her eyes. “Please for the love of all that is holy, do not tell Adam that. He will want to make us shopping buddies or something.”<br/><br/>Buffy fought to hide a judgey look. Mercy was definitely a tomboy, all denim and stained tees. Not that, you know, that was <em>bad</em> or anything…Just, not Buffy’s preference. “Is Adam a fashion diva?”<br/><br/>“Yeah,” Mercy laughed. “He’s all into suits.” Her eyes lit up. “Which I do like on him.”<br/><br/>“Just not for you?”<br/><br/>“Exactly.” Mercy smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, he loves me and I know he’s okay with my grease-stained shirts, but I know he likes it when I dress up to.”<br/><br/>Buffy suddenly saw a project. “<em>Well</em>,” she drawled, “maybe I can take you clothes shopping and you can help me buy a car?” Maybe she didn’t particularly care about her miles per gallon or engine size, but she also didn’t want to accidentally buy a lemon that broke down halfway to Los Angeles.<br/><br/>“Hmm.” Mercy narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Not sure if I want a shopping trip with you—”<br/><br/>“Hey!”<br/><br/>“Only because I hate shopping,” Mercy smiled apologetically, “but I will help you buy a car. I’m supposed to hang out with Warren and Kyle for dinner, but maybe they can come along?”<br/><br/>“Warren and Kyle?”<br/><br/>“Sorry. Warren’s is Adam’s third in the pack – basically meaning he’s third in line to being the pack alpha – and Kyle is his boyfriend. Warren has been alive since the forties and is a born and bred cowboy, so he’s also into ‘car things’,” Mercy quoted with her fingers. Then she smiled. “And Kyle is a brilliant divorce lawyer who loves fashion way too much, so I think you two will get along just fine.”<br/><br/>Buffy laughed. “One, I’d like for someone to be there who understands the need for shiny. Two…not to sound prejudiced, but…there are gay werewolves?”<br/><br/>“Yeah,” Mercy nodded, and Buffy hurried to explain.<br/><br/>“I just ask because when I was hunting a pyscho French packmaster who attacked some of my slayers, our research showed that the werewolves are super traditional, like 1950s style, and not too into equal rights.” Buffy shrugged. “Me, I’m down for the rainbow parade. A couple of my best friends are—were,” she corrected herself, “gay.”<br/><br/>“Were?”<br/><br/>Buffy winced and shifted slightly. “Were my friend. Still gay though.” God, old habits die hard. <br/><br/>“Ah.” Mercy nodded. “Got it. And, to answer your question, yes. Werewolves are jerks, basically. But Adam is cool and doesn’t care about that – mind you, some of the <em>other</em> wolves care, but they’re not in charge.” She smiled, and it wasn’t a very pleasant smile. Buffy had a feeling that Mercy didn’t like those other wolves very much.<br/><br/>“So,” Buffy said brightly. “Shopping time?”<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Buffy decided that she really liked Mercy’s friends. Warren was a gruff and tough type, totally werewolf material, but he had a wicked sense of humor that Buffy liked. Mercy explained that gay werewolves didn’t live long – they were challenged often by other werewolves to deadly fights and rarely were allowed in a pack – so Buffy could see why someone as strong as Warren was able to handle himself for decades. <br/><br/>Kyle was the sweetest thing ever. Until Buffy’s car salesman began snake oiling her.<br/><br/>About fifty years old with a paunch belly and plaid sports jacket, Doug Bryce had the cheesiest grin ever; which Buffy bet helped the man sell a lot of cars in his time.<br/><br/>The car, in this instance, was crimson and sparkled underneath the sunlight. It was a BMW sports car with convertible roof and only two years old, the youngest model on the used car lot.<br/><br/>Buffy likey.<br/><br/>Doug saw the gleam in her eyes once she spotted it and began giving her the speal. <br/><br/>“Yeah, whatever,” Buffy said with a wave of her hand and eager smile. “Me likey.”<br/><br/>“Me likey too,” Kyle grinned. “Nice eye, Buffy.” The two had been gossiping about cars like teenage girls at the mall, while Warren and Mercy both groaned in exasperation.”<br/><br/>“Great! At $35,000, it’s a steal. I’ll draw up the papers.”<br/><br/>“One second,” Mercy intervened. “What about…” And then she proceeded to rattle of a bunch of questions, along with Warren.<br/><br/>Buffy shared a look with Kyle and pouted. “Can’t I just have the pretty?”<br/><br/>Kyle smiled widely; he had the kind of smile that would make any judge rule in his favor. “Don’t worry hun, let those two do all the work. We just get to stand here and look amazing.”<br/><br/>Laughing, Buffy nodded in agreement and trailed her hand over the BMW’s smooth surface. Likewise, Kyle also admired the car. “You’re lucky, you know,” Kyle said. “Difficult to find a luxury car in this city.”<br/><br/>“Where did you get yours?” Buffy inquired. Kyle and Warren had driven up in a very nice vehicle, of which Buffy was insanely jealous. <br/><br/>“Seattle. Ever been?”<br/><br/>“Once.” Back when she was on her cross-country slaying rampage. “Good coffee.” She had needed the caffeine for her hunts.<br/><br/>“Definitely,” Kyle laughed. Then his fingers ran over a spot over the driver’s side door, and his expression darkened. “Hmm.”<br/><br/>“What?” Buffy asked suspiciously. “Frowning and pretty cars were unmixy things.”<br/><br/>Kyle’s expression turned stony the longer he looked at the patch of metal. <br/><br/>“What?” Buffy asked again, more urgent this time.<br/><br/>“Hmm” was all Kyle said and then he was walking over to where Mercy and Warren were speaking to the salesman. Both appeared pretty satisfied with the answers provided.<br/><br/>“So what’s the ownership history of this car?” Kyle inquired.<br/><br/>Holding up his clipboard with the answers, Doug smiled. “Rental car for Enterprise. Driven $13,000 miles each year. ” His smiled broadened. “Which is a great set of miles for you, miss.”<br/><br/>Buffy frowned. She didn’t like it when people called her ‘miss’ like she was some young girl. God, was this going to be her life forever? Hmmph. Also, what was Kyle doing?<br/><br/>“Right,” Kyle replied briskly with his shoulders straightened. His gaze focused on the man’s eyes as he took the clipboard and reviewed it with a cursory glance before turning back to Doug. “I do see that in the paperwork. The problem is, I’m not so sure it is true.”<br/><br/>Doug’s eyebrows rose casually and he shot Kyle another smooth smile. However, the skin tightened around his blue eyes ever so slightly. “And why would you think that, young man?”<br/><br/>Kyle bristled and Buffy silently laughed – it appeared he didn’t like being called young, either! <br/><br/>“Because I noticed the serial number had been etched just enough to turn a ‘6’ into an ‘8’. I wondered why would someone do that, if not to screw someone over. Add into the fact that a my client’s husband got into a car accident last year, totaling their BMW, and screwing her over, and I put two and two together. So tell me again, <em>Doug</em>, is this car really what you say it is.”<br/><br/>Doug gave them a look like the lawyer was crazy. “Yes, of course it is!”<br/><br/>“He’s lying,” Warren whispered to them, low enough so the salesman didn’t notice.<br/><br/>Kyle pulled out a cell phone. “Great. Let me call up my detective friend at the station. I’m sure he would <em>love</em> to hear that you are selling a previously wrecked car, certainly put together with various parts from other cars, as a whole set with a fake background.”<br/><br/>“W-wait!” Doug cried out.<br/><br/>After that, it got interesting, what with the used car lot’s owner coming out (who apparently knew nothing about the car; just said that Doug had acquired it and used the correct paperwork) and the police visit. Needless to say, Kyle was correct. Apparently it was a big no-no to falsely advertise like that – not that Buffy actually knew why.<br/><br/>“Because once a car is wrecked, it’s doomed,” Mercy tried explaining afterwards. “It would have been incredibly unreliable and would probably cause another accident. The false paperwork is pretty illegal.”<br/><br/>“Whoa.” Buffy was immortal but that really was only in regards to illness and natural aging. She was pretty sure a major car accident could kill her. “Thanks Kyle!” Buffy said with a quick hug. “I didn’t realize you were so car-smart.”<br/><br/>“Oh, I’m pretty smart in just about everything,” Kyle boasted, eyes twinkling.<br/><br/>“You are,” Warren agreed with an admiring smile.<br/><br/>“Kyle’s a genius lawyer,” Mercy explained. “Have to say, I feel bad for anyone who goes against you.”<br/><br/>“Tell me about it,” Warren joked with gesture towards his chest, causing them all to laugh.<br/><br/>“The only thing I don’t get,” Buffy mused, “is how Warren knew he was lying. He seemed pretty sure of himself.”<br/><br/>“Werewolf senses,” Warren explained matter-of-factly as he wrapped an arm around Kyle’s shoulders. “We can tell a lie.”<br/><br/>“It’s all about the heartbeat – they can hear when it jumps, and that usually happens when someone lies,” Kyle added. “And yes, it can suck sometimes.”<br/><br/>“Hey, well maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the last frozen pizza and then told me Mercy had gotten to it,” Warren shot back. His lips quirked into a half smile. <br/><br/>Kyle rolled his eyes. Mercy glared.<br/><br/>“That sounds…awful! If someone knew when I was lying…” Yuck. Although, Buffy could read the minds of the slayers when she wanted to, so maybe she couldn’t say anything…but still!<br/><br/>“Don’t worry.” Mercy flashed a smile at her. “There are ways around it.”<br/><br/>“Ooh, tell me more ‘O’ Wise Woman.” Not that Buffy hung around with werewolves often, but still.<br/><br/>“The trick is to tell half-truths. Or avoid answering questions.” Mercy laughed. “Trust me, it’s worked for me!”<br/><br/>“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Maybe Buffy would practice that with Oz tomorrow at lunch. Although, he was really too nice to call her on lying. Well, probably. She supposed she didn’t really know him all that well.<br/><br/>Mercy’s phone rang once they began heading out for dinner – no new car for Buffy, maybe at a different place tomorrow – and the four of them rode in Kyle’s convertible. <br/><br/>“Hey Samuel,” Mercy greeted. Her shoulders loosened as she listened to Samuel talking on the other end. “Aw, you made dinner? Hmm. Well, I would, but we’re all heading to get pizza right now…Who? Warren, Kyle, Buffy….” Mercy rolled her eyes and stole a glance at Buffy. Buffy pretended not to notice. “Sam, I dunno…well, yes, I guess…<em>fine</em>...okay, but be good,” Mercy finished in a whisper. She hung up the phone and rolled her eyes.<br/><br/>“Samuel coming to dinner?” Warren asked, turning around in the passenger seat to face them. <br/><br/>“Yes,” Mercy answered shortly. She flashed Buffy an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”<br/><br/>Buffy frowned in surprise and shrugged. “It’s no big deal.” She laughed. “I mean, sure he tried to kill me yesterday but otherwise we’re best buds,” Buffy said sarcastically.<br/><br/>“I know.” Mercy winced. “And I know he’s kind of…well, Samuel is a handful. And he’s not used to people standing up against him, so I think he finds you interesting.”<br/><br/>“Stand up against him? Why, is he like a Big Bad?” Buffy snorted.<br/><br/>“Samuel’s the third most dominant wolf in North America. His father is the Marrok and the leader of all the werewolves. So yeah, he can be a big bad wolf when he wants to,” Warren illuminated.<br/><br/>“Ugh.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “I’ve dealt with enough types like <em>that</em> in my life.” <br/><br/>“But he’s a good person,” Mercy interjected. “Really.”<br/><br/>Buffy studied her closely. “And just how did a coyote manage to surround herself with so many wolves? Especially,” Buffy laughed, “a very un-tame female coyote?”<br/><br/>“Coyote in wolf’s clothing,” Warren chuckled.<br/><br/>Mercy laughed and shook her head. “Well, when my mom went to check on her baby daughter, only to find a coyote pup in the crib, she realized she needed some help. Sent me to Bran – Samuel’s dad – to be raised with the wolves up in Montana. I lived there for sixteen years with a foster family.”<br/><br/>“Wow.” Buffy couldn’t imagine that. “And your mom…did you ever go visit?”<br/><br/>Turning her head to watch the passing city streets, Mercy gave a careless shrug. “No. Not until I left. But my mom had a new family by then.” Realizing that sounded kind of bad, Mercy turned to shake her head at Buffy. “Not that my mom was mean, or my new family. But I was just different. And that was kind of hard.”<br/><br/>“Yeah.” Buffy nodded. “I get being the ‘freak’ of the family.” Suddenly she felt bad about causing the somber atmosphere in the car. “If it makes you feel better, my parents institutionalized me when I was in high school, because I kept trying to explain monsters and vampires to them.”<br/><br/>“Yikes.” A concerned look crossed her face. “That must have been rough.”<br/><br/>Now it was Buffy’s turn to feel uncomfortable. “Yeah. It was.” She remembered that she really didn’t know Mercy – or any of them – very well. It had been a while since she actually discussed something personal with new people – and Buffy wasn’t sure if she liked it. “Anyways, so this pizza place. I vote mushrooms!”<br/><br/>Kyle grinned back in the rearview mirror. “Anchovies all the way!”<br/><br/>Warren swatted him. “I am <em>not</em> kissing you if you do that!”<br/><br/>They laughed, and Buffy felt a little bit better. Hopefully dinner would fun also.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>References<br/>*“James, watch out for that diminished ninth. That’s a man’s chord. You could lose a finger.” -- In season 2 Oz talked about how he still had to conquer the diminished ninth and that it was a ‘man’s chord’.<br/>*First chord to learn on guitar: http://guitar.about.com/library/weekly/aa071200e.htm<br/>*Joan Jett: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joan_Jett (Incidentally, Buffy was accidentally called ‘Joan’ after Willow’s terrible Tabula Rasa spell in season 6</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Pizza and Wine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘The Den’ was a pub built into the corner of an old-fashioned brick building. A dilapidated wooden sign hooked on a metal bar swung back and forth in the breeze. The name of the pub was carved in all caps and bore the sigil of a wolf head.<br/><br/>Buffy laughed as they walked up to the place. “Really?” she drawled with a raised brow. <br/><br/>The others grinned and Warren laughed sheepishly. “Anthony, one of our pack members, started it up a few years ago. He’s not big on subtlety.”<br/><br/>“And the way they eat,” Kyle jerked his thumb in Warren’s direction, “Anthony could get away with no other customers than wolves.”<br/><br/>Mercy laughed. “Samuel and I have to go grocery shopping every other day, practically, to handle his appetite.” She grinned. “Of course, I’m not much better after a four-legged run.”<br/><br/>Warren opened the door and classic rock music spilled into the air. “What about you Buffy? Does your…” he realized that ‘normal’ people were now around them as they stood by the hostess booth, “kind…of people…eat a lot?”<br/><br/>Buffy tossed her hair and mock-glared. “Warren, are you trying to say I look fat?”<br/><br/>“No! No, not at all—”<br/><br/>“Ignore him. His brain cells start shutting down right before dinner,” Kyle interjected smoothly with a grin.”<br/><br/>Laughing, Buffy shook her head. “Thanks Kyle,” she said pointedly. “And Warren, yeah.” Faith’s saying of ‘hungry and horny’ played in Buffy’s head. Of course, she wouldn’t tell these guys that Faith was right on both sides.<br/><br/>“Hey Warren!” A man with spiked black hair and brown eyes shouted. Wearing an apron that said “Kiss the Cook”, he made his way from the kitchen area towards the front. “Good to see you, man. Samuel said you can all meet him in the back room.”<br/><br/>“Thanks Anthony.”<br/><br/>“Back room? What is this, a gangster movie?” Buffy asked.<br/><br/>Anthony took notice of Buffy and gave her a full smile after sniffing the air experimentally. “We like to have a space for the pack. Welcome, Slayer. I was glad to hear when Oz said you weren’t out to kill us.” He winked. “Now after meeting you, I’m very glad. If you need anything tonight, just let me know.”<br/><br/>Buffy gave him a critical look. “Gee, good thing you guys are all immortal-like. Otherwise, I might feel bad for Anthony here for not having time to perfect his pick-ups.”<br/><br/>Everyone laughed, even Anthony.<br/><br/>“Okay, okay, you got me,” Anthony grinned as he threw his hands dramatically into the air. “Anyways, I’ll see you schmucks later.” He waved and went back into the kitchen while Warren led them into the back room. <br/><br/>For it being called a ‘back room’, Buffy had to admit it was still classy. In fact, it looked nicer than the front of the pub. The furniture was made of sturdy wood (surprise –werewolves were heavy!) but it was artfully crafted. White linens covered the table and a jukebox, pool table, and dart board were placed at one end of the room. And there, sitting in the middle of the table, was Samuel.<br/><br/>The old wolf smiled at their approach and waved a breadstick in greeting. “About time,” Samuel grinned.<br/><br/>“What did you do, run on all fours to get here so quick?” Mercy joked as she sat at the end of the table. Kyle sat next to Samuel and Warren sat across from his boyfriend. Leaving the only empty space for Buffy right across from the stupid wolf that jumped her yesterday. Joy.<br/><br/>“Hey, exercise is important. I should know – I am a doctor, after all.” Samuel glanced at Buffy, as if he wanted to ensure she heard that. <br/><br/>“Thank god, too, or else Mercy may not have survived this long,” Warren added. The men all laughed; Buffy looked confused and Mercy was just annoyed.<br/><br/>“I’ve had a few tiny accidents, no big deal,” Mercy rolled her eyes as dunked her breadstick into the cup of red marinara sauce.<br/><br/>“Let me guess – something to do with those vampires who were at your door the other night?” Buffy asked. <br/><br/>“Oh no, those were different creatures of the night,” Warren smiled. He seemed to be enjoying teasing Mercy.<br/><br/>“Unfortunately for us, Mercy gets into a lot of trouble,” Samuel added.<br/><br/>“Just keeping life interesting,” Mercy said breezily.” <em>And</em> let’s not forget that one of those times was when I saved you from that demon.”<br/><br/>“Demon?” Now this was a conversation that Buffy could get into. “What kind?”<br/><br/>“Well…”<br/><br/>They shared stories of battle and foes throughout dinner, from the vampire coven in town to the demon-possessed vampire and fae. By the time the fae came up in conversation, Buffy was on her third glass of red wine and could not keep her strong opinions in check.<br/><br/>“I can’t stand fae. I trust them about as far as I can throw them.”<br/><br/>“Hey now, Zee is good. They’re not all bad,” Mercy protested.<br/><br/>“Zee seems okay,” Buffy acknowledged. “But in my experience, they mostly just like to use humans as chew toys.”<br/><br/>Mercy frowned. “Didn’t Zee say something about your group being the reason why the Gray Lords came out of hiding?”<br/><br/>Buffy pushed her fork around her plate, moving aside a slice of mushroom pizza. “Yeah. He did.”<br/><br/>Samuel let out a low whistle. “That was the rumor my da heard, something about the Watchers’ Council scaring up the fae. I know you mentioned the size of your group, but that’s still quite an accomplishment. Very little scares them.” His look was difficult for Buffy to discern; she could not tell if he was impressed or suspicious of her.<br/><br/>“They took my sister.” Buffy grasped the stem of her wine glass to anchor herself. “Let’s just say that one of the Gray Lords tried to make my sister his bride, and I didn’t give them my blessing.”<br/><br/>Mercy choked on her pizza. She had met some of the fae. Zee, from what she could tell, was ‘upper’ in the ranks, but nowhere near a Gray Lord – and <em>Zee</em> was scary when he wanted to be. An actual Gray Lord? Buffy Summers was clearly insane.<br/><br/>“And that’s when they revealed themselves, in order to protect themselves from you and your slayers,” Samuel mused. The intellectual within was taking all of this into consideration. Little was known about the fae, even for one as old as him, but he did know that few things scared the strong fae.<br/><br/>Buffy gave him a mirthful smile. “It’s unlawful to kill legally recognized people – and more difficult to hide it. The Gray Lords are political, I’ll give them that.”<br/><br/>“Are you still at war?” Warren asked. He was thinking about the Pack, and if Buffy Summers’ presence would cause any disturbance with the local fae reservation.<br/><br/>Buffy shrugged. “We made a deal. I killed the fae who had my sister and all his minion-types that tried to stop me, and in return they promised no retribution as long as we maintained the peace.” Her lips twisted into a smile. “Most people don’t know the whole story, though. I don’t think the Gray Lords really wanted people to know how they got taken down by an army of human girls.”<br/><br/>The group laughed, but Buffy earned some thoughtful looks during her story. The conversation turned to lighter topics, however, and she felt herself relaxing. These people – Oz’s friends – were a-okay in her book.<br/><br/>Well…jury was still out on Samuel.<br/><br/>***<br/><br/>After a two hour dinner, Buffy’s belly was full of delicious pizza and tasty red wine. Maybe even a bit too much red wine! She was just unsteady enough on her feet to earn a look from Kyle.<br/><br/>“Good thing I’m driving, Buffy!” he grinned. “Not that I mind. It’s always fun to take my baby out for a drive with other people.”<br/><br/>Warren sighed dramatically. “I swear you love that car more than me.”<br/><br/>“Warren!” Kyle exclaimed with a lopsided smile. “It’s a red corvette! But you’re my boyfriend. I don’t love the car more than you!” He wrapped an arm around Warren and gave the werewolf a kiss. Then he said as an afterthought, “I love her just <em>as much</em> as you, not more.”<br/><br/>Mercy, Buffy, and Samuel chuckled at their antics.<br/><br/>“Okay, you asked for it! Time for wolf strength!” Warren, who was probably as tipsy as Buffy, threw Kyle over his shoulder like a lumberjack and sprinted across the parking lot to the car.<br/><br/>“They are so lovesick.” Mercy joked with a roll of her eyes.<br/><br/>“Right,” Samuel snorted. “Like you and Adam aren’t <em>ever</em> like that.” He ruffled her hair playfully.<br/><br/>“We’re not!” Mercy exclaimed as she pushed his hands away. Mercy was walking in the middle of the werewolf and slayer and she moved closer to Buffy. After a thoughtful pause she added, “Well, very rarely.” <br/><br/>“Me too.” Buffy thought about Xander. They had only been romantically involved for two years before he…well <em>Before</em>. At that point, both of them were so highly ranked in the Watcher’s Council they were mini-celebrities and it always felt like eyes were on them in public settings. Buffy preferred their time alone or just with the Scooby Gang. Xander, of course, got a kick out of giving a show every once in a while. When the rumor came out that they were romantically involved, both denied it for a while to the watchers and slayers so they could keep their relationships private for as long as possible…and then Xander straight up kissed her like it was Gone with the Wind at an annual awards banquet that the Council hosted.<br/><br/>Buffy giggled softly at the memory. She had been slightly exasperated with Xander – she was, after all, a role model to the girls and their hooting and hollering was embarrassing– but it had been a very good night.<br/><br/>“You’re not a fan of public affection either, Buffy?” Samuel inquired curiously with a sidelong glance.<br/><br/>“Um.” Stupid drunk Buffy. She was not interested in chatting about romance things with people she barely knew, especially a weirdo werewolf who went from wanting to hit her to wanting to hit <em>on</em> her. If she had not been drinking, she wouldn’t have responded to Mercy’s comment.<br/><br/>Then she spotted her salvation. Warren and Kyle were making out against the corvette. Distraction! “Oh hey, um, looks like ‘Love is in the Air Tonight’, a’la the Lion King!”<br/><br/>She could have sworn Samuel whispered “I wish”.<br/><br/>“Oh god, it’s so annoying when they are like this. They are too adorable,” Mercy grumbled. “Samuel, you drove here. Want to drive us back?”<br/><br/>“Sure.” A sly grin crossed his face. He shouted to Warren and Kyle that they would see them later, but the couple barely recognized them. <br/><br/>“Uh.” Buffy wasn’t thrilled to be stuck in Samuel’s car. “You don’t have to.”<br/><br/>“Nonsense. It makes sense.” Samuel began walking in the direction of his car. It was a silver Honda four-door with interior leather seats.<br/><br/>“Just take me to the shop,” Mercy said as she opened the passenger side door. “I can take Buffy to her hotel from there.”<br/><br/>Buffy slid into the backseat and began examining the space. This was the second person’s car she had been inside in today and it was interesting to glean someone’s personality from their vehicle. Samuel was probably a clean freak and controlling. Well, she essentially guessed that from his ‘vibe’ but his car told her as much as well. The interior was impeccably clean. The backseat seemed brand new even though the model seemed a few years old, so she bet he didn’t drive groups of people around or else it would have been more worn down. It made her wonder if he had many friends. On the floor of the seat opposite her, behind the driver’s seat, there was a cardboard box. It looked like maybe clothes were inside but she couldn’t tell.<br/><br/>“Good thing you sat on that side, Buffy,” Samuel said as he adjusted his mirrors. “There’s my doc box behind my seat.”<br/><br/>Mystery solved. Sort of. “Doc box?”<br/><br/>“I’m on call at the hospital a lot. This makes sure I have a change of clothes and some protein bars with me at all times, just in case,” he explained. The car started and Samuel began backing out.<br/><br/>“So, how are you a doctor?” Buffy asked. She was definitely tipsy, as her question sounded more like an insult than a sincere question. “I mean, you’re a werewolf,” she hurriedly elaborated. “Not that it’s bad or anything, but I’m guessed you see a lot of mangled bodies and blood, and I heard werewolves can get blood-lusty sometimes. Like they get hungry and want to go all ‘grr’ and furry.” <br/><br/>A singular eyebrow rose as he glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Do you always ramble or is this the wine?” The corners of his lips drifted up into a smile. <br/><br/>“Uh, probably the wine.” Buffy shrugged with warm cheeks; whether that was from the wine or embarrassment she was not sure. Probably both.<br/><br/>“It is difficult sometimes but I’ve had a lot of practice. It’s a passion of mine. It…it feels good to help people.” Samuel said all this as if he wasn’t used to explaining himself very often.<br/><br/>“How much practice?” Buffy wondered if he was older than Angel. <br/><br/>“A lot.”<br/><br/>“So you’re pretty old?”<br/><br/>Mercy cut in before the conversation got too delicate. “Samuel is old. But generally wolves don’t like to talk about their age,” she said gently.<br/><br/>Buffy nodded. “Got it. Adding that to my etiquette book. ‘Don’t ask women or werewolves their age.”<br/><br/>Mercy and Samuel started laughing. <br/><br/>“That’s fair,” Samuel admitted. He grinned back at Buffy.<br/><br/>Feeling a bit tired from all the wine, talking, and laughing tonight; Buffy leaned her head against the window. The glass was cold and she felt the warmth in her red cheeks starting to dissipate.<br/><br/>In the front seat Mercy and Samuel were having a wordless conversation that mostly consisted of facial expressions and eye movement. Mercy seemed rather exasperated while Samuel gave her the most loving looks.<br/><br/>“Oh look! We’re almost at the shop,” Samuel called out as they turned down the shop’s road. “I guess I’ll drop you both off soon.” He glanced at Mercy. “Although, didn’t you mention that you have a lot of paperwork to do before tomorrow morning, Mercy?”<br/><br/>She glared at him. “Yes. I have a lot of paperwork,” Mercy confirmed in a flat tone.<br/><br/>Buffy pulled away from the window and refocused on the conversation. “Oh. I could call a taxi. Or just wait until you’re done.”<br/><br/>“It’s going to take Mercy a while. She has a whole lot. But I can give you a lift to your hotel,” Samuel offered casually. <br/><br/>“Oh.” Buffy ran a hand through her hair and willed the effects of the alcohol to lessen so she could think with a clearer head. Her slayer metabolism was in full effect but she had drank a <em>lot</em> of wine. “Um, okay then.”<br/><br/>Samuel pulled into the shop’s parking lot and Mercy got out, as did Buffy so she could claim the front seat so the situation didn’t feel like a taxi. “Well, good luck on paperwork, Mercy.” Buffy smiled broadly as a sneaking skepticism told her that the coyote probably wasn’t going to work on paperwork at eight o’clock at night after dinner with friends. <br/><br/>“Thanks Buffy,” Mercy responded without making eye contact. She shot the slayer a smile. “Also, I’m sorry that the plans to find a car didn’t work out today but it was still a good time.”<br/><br/>A genuine smile came across Buffy’s face. “Me too.” The two women stood there awkwardly for a moment, each wondering if they should hug, but both not huggy people with strangers. Finally Buffy ended the awkwardness with a quick goodbye and got into the passenger seat.<br/><br/>“So.” Samuel peeked over at her before his eyes were back on the road as they pulled out of the parking lot. <br/><br/>“So,” Buffy repeated. Being alone in a car with Samuel felt intensely awkward. <br/><br/>“Where are you staying?”<br/><br/>Buffy gave him the hotel name and address. It was only a 10 minute drive into downtown.<br/><br/>“It’s been nice getting to know you,” Samuel offered.<br/><br/>‘Ha. Before or after trying to kill me?” Buffy asked wryly.<br/><br/>“Are you ever going to forgive me for that? I thought you were evil.” Samuel tore his eyes from the empty night road to give her werewolf-puppy eyes.<br/><br/>She laughed. “Yeah, that has happened before.” Buffy crossed her arms against her chest. She felt slightly bad for giving him such a hard time. “Okay, I guess I forgive you. You were an almost decent human at dinner,” she teased. Buffy could not see her and Samuel sharing a best friends necklace anytime soon but the werewolf had almost been fun to spend time with alongside Mercy, Warren, and Kyle.<br/><br/>“Well, I’m not a human but maybe a halfway decent werewolf?” Samuel asked.<br/><br/>“Is there that much of a difference between a human and a werewolf?” What she meant as a light-hearted comment had Samuel turn quiet for a few long moments.<br/><br/>“There’s enough,” he finally said in a darkened tone.<br/><br/>“Sorry.” Buffy winced. <br/><br/>“No, it’s fine,” Samuel said softly as he turned down a busier street. “I’m sure different werewolves see it differently. For many, especially the younger ones, they can more easily remember what it is like to experience life as a human and they can cling to it if they desire. With training and self-determination, werewolves can control their more animalistic urges in their day to day lives.”<br/><br/>Understanding dawned on her. “I’m guessing you don’t remember life as a human?” Once again Buffy wondered how old Samuel was; most werewolves were only a few hundred years at maximum, if the Council’s investigation in France had collected accurate information. <br/><br/>“I…do. But it’s best if I don’t remember that time period.” <br/><br/>“That bad?” Samuel’s broodiness reminded her of Angel. Years had passed since she first met Angel and the ensouled vampire was still just as broody. <br/><br/>“It was bad.” Samuel smiled grimly and pulled into the valet area of the hotel. “And here you are.”<br/><br/>“Here I am,” she said weakly, feeling bad about ruining Samuel’s good mood. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I didn’t mean to make you remember bad things.”<br/><br/>He waved her comment away. “It happens. Immortality does such a thing.” Samuel gave her a searching look. “I’m sure you’re beginning to realize this yourself.”<br/><br/>Uhh. “I don’t know what you mean.” Playing the dumb blond was always her go-to.<br/><br/>Samuel shook his head and smiled. “Play dumb all you want, slayer. But Oz was in high school over twenty years ago and you don’t look forty.”<br/><br/>“Time traveler?” she offered lamely with a shrug.<br/><br/>“Keep your secrets. I’m intrigued.” Samuel’s eyes gleamed with an inner light and he grinned. “Very intrigued.” Sighing, he added, “But I understand the necessity of secrets all too well.”<br/><br/>Buffy gave him a surprised look. “Thanks. That…that was actually a reasonable statement.”<br/><br/>He laughed. “I’m a doctor, Buffy. Of course I’m reasonable!”<br/><br/>She glared. “Oh really?” Buffy asked meaningfully.<br/><br/>“<em>And</em> I’m a werewolf, which doesn’t always lead to reasonable actions. Have I mentioned I’m sorry yet?”<br/><br/>Not giving an inch, Buffy smirked. “You can mention it more.”<br/><br/>“Okay.” Samuel leaned towards her, and tried not to look downcast when she involuntarily moved back. “I know you’re leaving soon. Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow. As an official apology.” <br/><br/>Blue-grey eyes stared at her warmly and Buffy was ever aware of Samuel’s presence in this moment. Physically, he was a commanding figure at over six-feet tall with an impressive amount of muscles that non-werewolf gym rats would pray to have. But Samuel was more than this; while his large body took up a lot of space, so did his personality and power. When he stared at her like this, Buffy forgot who she was for a moment – as if only he and she existed in this moment, alone in the world.<br/><br/>She shook away the warm feelings that had begun to settle over her. She was not ready for warm feelings. Not again. Not ever. To an outsider, ten years without Xander probably seemed like a long time – she knew her friends definitely thought she needed to move on. But Buffy was just.Not.Interested.<br/><br/>“Samuel…”<br/><br/>“It’s just dinner. Or we could do a lunch. Or coffee. Fro-yo even! Very casual,” he assured her in a smooth but quite eager tone.<br/><br/>“I’m not…I don’t know what…Dating just isn’t a thing,” Buffy explained.<br/><br/>“Okay.” Samuel frowned slightly but quickly smiled at her again. “I understand. But at the same time, I think you are very interesting, Buffy. I’ve never known a slayer in my entire life – which is saying something. It’s nice to talk to someone else who knows about the supernatural world and share stories that isn’t a wolf. Plus,” he smiled sheepishly, “your slayer stories are pretty interesting.”<br/><br/>“Well, now you’re just buttering me up,” Buffy joked.<br/><br/>She contemplated his offer and sat in the awkward silence. The last couple days had way more social time than she had experienced in months – and it was the first time in a decade where she tried to get to know people outside of the Watcher’s Council. Samuel could be a bit annoying but he was interesting. And she would have all day tomorrow until she did dinner with Oz again. <br/><br/>“I guess we could do lunch,” Buffy replied slowly.<br/><br/>“Great,” Samuel beamed. “I’ll come back here at noon?”<br/><br/>“Sounds like a plan. I’ll be going back to the dealership tomorrow morning to hopefully find something non-lemony and buy it.”<br/><br/>“Is Mercy going with you?”<br/><br/>“Yeah.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “She has no faith in my ability to buy something not only shiny but also drivable.” Truthfully, Buffy was happy that Mercy offered. After the close call today, she definitely didn’t want to end up buying something awful.<br/><br/>“Okay then. I guess I will see you tomorrow.”<br/><br/>“Yep, I’ll see you then.” Buffy said casually, fully aware of Samuel’s intense gaze. She nearly jumped out of his car and made her way into the hotel lobby. The whole way she just felt increasingly guilty about accepting Samuel’s lunch invitation.<br/><br/>‘<em>Date</em>’, she corrected herself. Samuel definitely meant it as a date even if she didn’t want that.<br/><br/>Once she got into her room, Buffy threw herself onto her bed. The five-star hotel’s plush white comforter and mattress cushioned her fall and Buffy quickly slipped under the covers. She sighed heavily and turned on the television. When she felt too many ‘feels’, she was prone to turn on the TV to distract herself. <br/><br/>Once she thought about it more, Buffy realized that tomorrow’s lunch was really just an intel gathering mission. When did the Watcher’s Council ever get the opportunity to meet privately with the son of the most powerful werewolf in North America? Never, that’s when! And the werewolves were very mysterious, of course, so this would be a very good meeting to have. It was honestly more like a diplomatic event, given her status in the supernatural world.<br/><br/>By the time Buffy had drifted off to sleep, she had soundly convinced herself that she was only having lunch with Samuel Cornick for business-y reasons only.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Definitely Not a Date</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Breakfast consisted of the extensive buffet provided by her hotel; Buffy was so happy that Giles had made sure the Watchers Council paid well and extravagant hotels were a-okay. After a morning workout, Buffy enjoyed a plethora of pancakes, strawberries, bacon, sausage, and many a breakfast potato. Frankly, she wanted to fill up at breakfast so she was less likely to cow it up at lunch. She would prefer if her lunch with Samuel Cornick did not consist of multiple courses that would extend her time with him.<br/><br/>Waking up this morning brought the slightly fuzzy memory of her agreeing to have lunch with Samuel, brought by a rush of panic. Sure, she could chalk this up to a business-y meeting as she met with the Marrok’s son and learned some choice intel about werewolves in North America. But Buffy knew what Samuel wanted – he made his desire for her pretty clear. <br/><br/>Buffy tugged on some faded jeans, a green tank top, and a tan cardigan – something fairly blasé and casually professional. Definitely not date material.<br/><br/>The outfit also made the car salesmen take her a bit more seriously when she went out shopping with Mercy. Buffy found a nice shiny metallic gray sedan that boasted top speeds. Provided she successfully avoided traffic cops, her trip down to California should be almost fun. She said as much to Mercy.<br/><br/>The walker raised a brow. “Good luck with that one. They state police are merciless down the Pacific Coast Highway.”<br/><br/>Buffy widened her eyes innocently, flipped her blond hair, and giggled. “Why, that’s the nice thing about blond stereotypes,” she said in a saccharine tone.<br/><br/>Mercy crinkled her nose in disgust. “Please never talk like that again. I’m having nightmares of high school.”<br/><br/>Buffy frowned. “Yeah, sadly before I was Called as the Slayer, I was just like that.”<br/><br/>“And after?” Mercy inquired.<br/><br/>Buffy smirked. “Well, the girl with messy hair and bloodstains on her clothes usually isn’t very popular.” She gave Mercy a sidelong glance. Already on this trip she had revealed a good amount of herself, all things considered, to Oz’s friends and she realized she wanted to learn more about them.<br/><br/>“What about you? What was your high school like?”<br/><br/>“Ah, kinda different,” Mercy sighed. “Half of high school I spent with the children of werewolves, or at least from families that lived in the village and had some kind of connection to the pack. Considering I was a coyote, I was mostly an outsider. The other half of high school I lived with my mom and even though it was full of regular humans and no one <em>knew</em> I was different, I still felt different.”<br/><br/>“What made you leave to go back with your mom?” Buffy asked with a quizzical expression. “Didn’t you say before that she kinda gave you up?”<br/><br/>“No quite,” Mercy said quickly. “She just didn’t know how to care for a baby that turned into a coyote and knew someone connected to werewolves and thought it would be best to be with people most like me. As for why I left…” Mercy’s eyes evaded Buffy’s face. “…it’s a long story.”<br/><br/>Hmm, Buffy could understand not wanting to discuss personal matters. Still, Mercy’s reaction was a bit odd. The walker was pretty forthright so her avoidance of looking at Buffy was strange. “Yeah, I get long stories,” Buffy eventually offered up. “Anyways,” she followed quickly in order to change the subject, “I guess I better get going.”<br/><br/>“Yeah...So, lunch with Samuel, huh?” Mercy turned her eyes onto the Slayer. “Are you interested in him?”<br/><br/>“What? No!” Buffy said hotly. “He just…he got me all flustered. I figured it would be good to meet anyways, on account of him being the Marrok’s son and I don’t want wolves thinking slayers are all evil and should be killed on sight.”<br/><br/>“Hey, no worries,” Mercy said with raised hands. “It’s just…I care about Samuel. He hasn’t had the best luck in love and for whatever reason he seems to be into you.”<br/><br/>“Hey!” Buffy was mildly offended at the ‘for whatever reason’.<br/><br/>Mercy laughed. “No, not like that! It’s just that Samuel is extremely alpha and he likes to take care of people. You’re not someone that needs to be taken care of, so I’m surprised.”<br/><br/>“Oh. Well.” Buffy fidgeted. It shouldn’t make her feel a little bit sad that Mercy considered Buffy and Samuel a poor match. She shrugged. “No, I’m definitely not someone that needs to be taken care of.”<br/><br/>Even though…this suddenly reminded her of Xander and how he always took care of Buffy. Sure, she could take care of herself…but she kind of missed having him take care of her.<br/><br/>~~~ <br/><br/>Samuel picked her up promptly at noon. He was quite courteous and opened the car door for her before she had the chance to do it herself. Buffy grimaced as she got into the car. Clearly, she would have to make it extremely clear that this was <em>not</em> a date.<br/><br/>“So, where are we headed?” Buffy asked briskly once Samuel got into the car. His blond hair was meticulously tousled and he smelled good, of pine and musk.<br/><br/>“Since you’re visiting the Pacific Northwest, you need to have some salmon. There’s a great Japanese restaurant downtown that I’ve made reservations at,” Samuel grinned as he started to drive out of the hotel parking lot.<br/><br/>“What if I don’t like fish?” Buffy asked, feeling slightly irked at him choosing their restaurant.<br/><br/>“Do you like fish?”<br/><br/>“Well, yes.”<br/><br/>He grinned. “Excellent.”<br/><br/>“Is this the whole Alpha thing I’ve heard about? I’ve picked up some knowledge about werewolves, you know, and it always makes Alphas sound like furry dictators.”<br/><br/>Samuel guffawed. “That’s a pretty fair description. I like to think that I’m a bit of the exception. I’m far more logical than most Alphas and I’ve never been the Alpha of my own pack, so I haven’t tried to get many opportunities to control people’s lives.”<br/><br/>“Well, in a way you control lives as a doctor,” Buffy mused. <br/><br/>Silent for a moment, Samuel took his eyes off the road to glance at Buffy. “Saving lives is not controlling them.”<br/><br/>“Isn’t it?” Buffy shrugged. “Doctors are able to play God.”<br/><br/>“Touché,” Samuel acquiesced. “I take it you know a lot of doctors?”<br/><br/>“I’ve encountered quite a few in my day – fighting life threatening battles equates to a lot of medical attention over the years. Not to mention, witches.” Buffy thought of Willow, but certainly didn’t want to get into it. “Witches – whether they are light or dark – can get a buzz off stuff like that, like raising people from the dead.”<br/><br/>All that was deep into the past and Buffy was no longer angry at her friends for bringing her back, but she would be a liar if she didn’t somewhat place this on a long list of actions by Willow to be angry about.<br/><br/>Samuel whistled. “Bringing people back from the dead is dark business. I’ve only heard of a few cases, personally. Yes, that is a different level of controlling personality.”<br/><br/>“You said that Alphas who have a pack are the most controlling types of people. What does that say about your dad?”<br/><br/>Chuckling, Samuel nodded his head. “And now we get into the sharing of secrets, huh, Slayer?”<br/><br/>Buffy smiled innocently. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to get together and talk about supernatural things.”<br/><br/>“True, true. It’s almost too bad I had my brother turned back - he was on his way to the Tri-Cities when we first thought you were a threat. He’s my da’s second now and is more into the politics of the werewolves than I am these days.”<br/><br/>“Why did you leave?”<br/><br/>“It’s painful,” Samuel winced. “Let’s just say I lost sight of who I was and I tried to start over. That didn’t quite work and going back home to my da’s pack didn’t make it any better, so I came out here to move in with Mercy. When I was there, I wasn’t much of an enforcer like my brother. I mostly trained the new wolves.”<br/><br/>“Really?” Buffy smiled. “That’s kind of cute. So, you were like a teacher?”<br/><br/>Samuel seemed to puff up a bit at her compliment. “I love kids. Most wolves don’t have the patience for teaching – we tend to have anger issues – but it comes naturally to me.”<br/><br/>Buffy filed this factoid away. She thought it might make sense – provided the two of them can become allies – to invite Samuel to England where they trained the slayers. He would be a great addition to the academy and help the younger girls understand about werewolves and other supernatural creatures that are not necessarily slayee-type creatures. <br/><br/>With little prompting, Samuel chatted happily about some of his lessons with the new wolves. He had this ability to paint his stories in vivid colors and Buffy could tell he had truly enjoyed teaching new wolves in the pack. She was surprised to see this caring side of him, all things considering. He was a baffling person to figure out, given the different sides of himself displayed so far. Angry and protective, flirtatious, dark, easy-going, and now loves kids and working with new wolves. <br/><br/>It surprised Buffy that she was beginning to like Samuel. Not like <em>that</em>, but as a person to spend time with.<br/><br/>After a while, they arrived at the Japanese restaurant downtown. The interior featured light wood paneling and a minimalist design that only featured a couple large scale canvases with Japanese art. The prints were quite beautiful and were more than your typical purchase from any home store. There were rolling waves carrying whaling boats in one image and in another a great mountain that bloomed on an island.<br/><br/>“Do you like the art?” Samuel asked as they stepped up to the hostess area.<br/><br/>Buffy nodded and smiled. “Yes. I don’t know art, but I know what I like.”<br/><br/>Samuel gave her a long look – long enough to make her blush – and responded. “Me too.”<br/><br/>Backing away from the heat of his stare, Buffy was relieved to see the hostess approach them.<br/><br/>“Hello! Welcome to Mount Eboshi!” She was a gorgeous young woman with her black hair trimmed short at her ears and with a streak of red on the strands to the left of her face. She glanced at Buffy’s dining partner. “Dr. Cornick! How can we help you?”<br/><br/>“Hello Ami,” Samuel smiled warmly. “I spoke to your grandfather on the phone yesterday and he secured the back room for us.”<br/><br/>“Ah.” There was flash of disappointment on Ami’s features as she glanced quickly at Buffy and then back to Samuel. “I am used to seeing you dine alone. Of course! Let me take you back there.” Ami smiled brightly and turned to lead them into the back. There were sliding doors made of bamboo with paper screens showcasing paintings of cranes. Ami seated them, took their drink order, and gave them the menus. Once she left, Buffy released the smile she was holding back.<br/><br/>“I think you broke the girl’s heart, Dr. Cornick,” she teased. <br/><br/>Samuel placed his palm over his forehead and gave her a sheepish look. “As the kids say, how totally awkward.”<br/><br/>Buffy laughed. “It’s cute. She has a crush.”<br/><br/>“Ami and her family are very nice. She is also very young,” Samuel added. He looked away suddenly, as though there was something on his mind that Samuel did not wish to share. <br/><br/>An image of Angel popped into Buffy’s mind. Yeah, she knew all about being a teenager and crushing on an immortal. That way led to badness.<br/><br/>“But it was also telling that she was surprised to see you had a dining partner.” Buffy rose a singular eyebrow. “I’m kind of surprised a guy like you doesn’t have more friends.”<br/><br/>Samuel gazed at her thoughtfully. “I am unsure if that is supposed to be sarcastic or sincere.” Buffy laughed and Samuel nodded confidently. “As I thought. Slayer, you wound me.” He didn’t appear bothered by her teasing, if anything he was reveling in the attention.<br/><br/>Shrugging, Buffy glanced down at her menu. “I’m just saying, you attack someone when you meet them for the first time…” she trailed off in an amused voice. Truly, she wasn’t bothered by that incident anymore, but it was good fodder to tease Samuel. She did not trust him by any means nor was he on the BFF shortlist, but she was warming to him.<br/><br/>“Yes, so please enjoy my guilt dinner. Perhaps this pleasant experience will wipe away the negative one.” Samuel grinned boyishly. <br/><br/>Buffy glanced up from her menu. “It’s pleasant so far, but we do need to still make it through lunch.”<br/><br/>Samuel raked his hand through his hair. “You are a frustrating one. I imagine this is what makes you so terrifying to your enemies.”<br/><br/>“I am as witty as I am…kill-y,” Buffy said with a nod. Samuel just gave her a weird look. “And I talk good, too.” <br/><br/>He laughed, and Buffy joined in. The server, Ami, came back in only to leave again because they had yet to select their menu items. <br/><br/>In fact, Buffy was starting to understand why Mercy was friends with Samuel. When he let his guard down, he was actually quite charming and warm. He was a good storyteller and way more socially inclined than Buffy would have expected a werewolf to be.<br/><br/>Lunch went well, and much longer than expected. Buffy got a good share of information from him on North American werewolf culture, as well as insight into wolves on the other continents as well. He was also quite useful in speaking more about the fae that lived nearby; while Buffy’s team had done detailed research on the fae almost twenty years ago when a Gray Lord kidnapped Dawn, there was a lot of new information now. The Watcher’s Council tracked their movements but never invasively searched for information due to their treaty. Learning that several Gray Lords lived at the nearby fae reservation was quite startling.<br/><br/>She would have a lot to talk about with Dawn on their next phone call.<br/><br/>Buffy shared information as well. Samuel didn’t know about her unique powers, such as her ability to locate the slayers or read their minds if desired, but she informed him on their network of slayers. There was still a great amount of evil in the world and some demon or dark mage was always working on opening a hell dimension, it seemed. Truly, the work was endless. <br/><br/>Which…was a hard truth Buffy had to acknowledge during multiple points of her life, but considering her life was essentially endless, the idea of battling evil forever did seem rather…overwhelming. <br/><br/>“Why the focus on Asia? Evil still brews in these lands as well,” Samuel remarked as they both enjoyed some desert. <br/><br/>“Well, it would be rather Euro-centric to just focus on fighting evil in the States or Europe,” Buffy replied airily. <br/><br/>“I suppose after killing off the half-breed vampires here, that took a chunk of evil out of these lands.” Samuel looked at her expectedly. <br/><br/>“Yes…” Buffy looked at him warily. <br/><br/>“You have to understand, I am curious,” Samuel said gently. “From our side, all the Marrok heard was that the Watchers’ Council finally had enough and sent their slayer army through the states and killed all the yellow-eyed half-breeds. We wolves hate those foul demons, but they reproduce so quickly it’s like trying to kill fruit flies. It was a surprise when you all did that.”<br/><br/>“Hmm.” Buffy had already explained this to Oz, but that story involved the truth of <em>why</em> she had done this – to avenge Xander’s death. Harmony had made him a vampire to help bring their kind of vampires out of the shadows and Buffy took all her grief and rage out on them. She wouldn’t – she couldn’t – talk about Xander to Samuel. As much as she was enjoying this adventure into friendship, she was not okay with opening up to him.<br/><br/>“It was a…tactical decision. One of those dust-in-death vampires had it in their head they’d become like the fae and publicize their existence.” Buffy’s face hardened. She would always be angry at the ‘real’ type of vampires (very hard to take out, very secretive, and apparently here in the Tri-Cities as well) killed Harmony and her minions before Buffy could. “The other vampires, like the ones you know that live here, killed that group before we got there. But still…it was decided all those types of vampires – the ‘half-breeds’ – needed to be taken out.”<br/><br/>“I see.” Samuel had a thoughtful look on his face. Meanwhile, Buffy focused to keep her expression emotionless. Werewolves could sense lies, so she told no lies. Just not the details.<br/><br/>“Do you think you’ll do that to the other supernatural creatures?”<br/><br/>“God, no,” Buffy said with a shake of her head. “I thought you all understood we are not a threat to werewolves.”<br/><br/>Samuel raised his hands in surrender. “No, no. I didn’t mean that. But…well, the fae are not to be trusted. One of these days something is going to go south. My da’s been preparing for what that could look like.” He gave her a meaningful look.<br/><br/>“What have you heard?” Buffy narrowed her eyes. She had not given much thought to the fae in a while given their status on reservations.<br/><br/>“Some of the old ones, the powerful ones, are getting restless. There’s been issues here and there. The Gray Lords are good at keeping it all quiet, but we don’t think it’ll be that way forever. It won’t be soon, but ten, twenty years? We can see it possibly happening.”<br/><br/>Buffy leaned back and processed the information. Suddenly she realized this trip to visit Oz may be the start of a partnership between the Slayers and the werewolves. The reality was, she knew her Slayers were no match for the thousands of fae that lived in the world – that was partly why she agreed to a treaty with creatures who ate human flesh. And then, there was the issue of innocent fae as well. But perhaps if they were partnered with all the packs of North America…?<br/><br/>“That won’t be good.” Buffy grimaced. “We’ve considered that too. The fae are powerful and once they can hide from us in their own lands Underhill. But many fae are good, or good-ish, so we are just hoping it won’t ever get ugly. There’s enough evil in the world already to keep us busy.”<br/><br/>Samuel was silent a moment. “Does this mean, after your trip here, you’ll be going back abroad? Or will you monitor the situation here?”<br/><br/>Buffy squirmed in her seat a bit. “We have people always monitoring things”. Helloooo Watchers’ Council and a thousand years of English investments to pay off spies. “So I’ll be heading back after business here.”<br/><br/>Samuel frowned. “That will be a shame.” He was quiet and appeared indecisive on his next words, but didn’t speak further.<br/><br/>Ami brought the check by then and Samuel handed over his credit card. They sat in silence as Ami processed the card and brought back the receipt to be signed.<br/><br/>There was a part of Buffy that was disappointed she would be leaving the U.S. as well.<br/><br/>***<br/>Their conversation on the short drive back to Buffy’s hotel was not as rich as it had been earlier. Buffy was feeling melancholy at their last discussion topic and really just wanted to snuggle in her bed and watch some mindless television. The idea of heading back to Europe and Watchers’ Council HQ didn’t bring with it the warm and fuzzies. Life just seemed to change for everyone around her, but she felt like stone – immune to change except perhaps over long periods of time.<br/><br/>She supposed to she could leave HQ in London and go visit their chapters along the different continents to help the younger slayers, but that too brought with it heartache. It was lonely work. As much as Buffy knew she should spend time with those she loved before they got older and died, she very much so wanted to avoid it. Yet spending time with younger slayers – most who were born after they awoke the Slayer spirit inside all Potentials at Sunnydale twenty-two years ago – made her feel too old. Not to mention, while they had hundreds of slayers now, it also did not stop them from dying in battle. Every year perhaps thirty to fifty ‘awoke’ but almost that same number of Slayers died – depending on the year. Some years, of course, were better than others. <br/><br/>But what else was she supposed to do with her life? Where was she to go?<br/><br/>“We’re here,” Samuel said softly. He recognized he disturbed Buffy deep in thought and gave her an apologetic look. <br/><br/>“Oh!” Buffy looked out the window. Yep. Here was her hotel. She took a deep, startled breath. “Well, thanks for lunch.” <br/><br/>Internally, Buffy groaned. Very awkward, Buffy. <em>Very.</em> <br/><br/>Samuel’s forehead creased in concern. “Are you alright, Buffy?”<br/><br/>“I’m fine.” She gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry, I just have some things on my mind. Thank you for lunch, really. I will no longer call you a jerk in my head.” Buffy grinned, desperate to bring some levity to the conversation. “You are an alright guy, Samuel Cornick.”<br/><br/>A smile wove its way across Samuel’s face. The werewolf honestly was quite good-looking, especially when he smiled. Buffy could definitely see why a teenage girl would crush on the doctor werewolf. Heck, twenty-five years ago Samuel probably would have given Angel a run for his money in the ‘immortals Buffy wanted to get with’ competition. <br/><br/>“And you, Buffy Summers, Queen of Slayers, are ‘alright’ as well.”<br/><br/>Buffy rolled her eyes at the moniker.<br/><br/>“Thank you for agreeing to have lunch with me. I know you didn’t have to, and I’m glad you did.” He stared at her with expressive eyes and she could feel the power radiating from him. It was compelling, she could admit, but mostly it made her uneasy.<br/><br/>“Me too,” Buffy replied honestly. Her hand clutched the passenger door handle.<br/><br/>Samuel raised a hand as if he meant to touch her arm, but quickly pulled away when he saw her tense up. “Before you go…are you really ok? You seemed so sad on the drive back.” Blue eyes stared at her with worry. “And even though you said you were fine, werewolves can tell a lie, remember?”<br/><br/>Buffy sat in silence. She didn’t owe Samuel anything. Not by a long shot. Oz was the only one she was willing to confide in about all things immortality – not even she, Dawn, and Giles discussed it much. It was just too painful to discuss it with people she’d lose eventually.<br/><br/>But still…Samuel was old. Mercy had said he was <em>very</em> old. Perhaps…perhaps he might give her guidance?<br/><br/>And yet…her immortality was a secret. While she suspected people here (especially Mercy, Adam, and Zee, Samuel) had figured it out since they knew that Buffy and Oz went to high school together and Buffy looked like a fresh faced twenty-something a couple decades after; Buffy didn’t want this to spread. It would only stir up enemies. Whenever the slayers and Watchers’ Council became more powerful, it seemed to only tempt more baddies to try their best to kill them and then have bragging rights.<br/><br/>The silence extended. Samuel didn’t say anything more. There was no pressure.<br/><br/>Buffy’s blond hair fell in her face as she turned to look out the window. Her past-shoulder length hair felt like a veil of protection. She didn’t bother to push it behind her ears as she turned back to peer at Samuel.<br/><br/>“I know it’s not polite to ask the age of a werewolf,” she started softly, “so I won’t. I’m just curious...how do you do it? You know…keep living?” Samuel stiffened and he looked like maybe he regretted asking her what was wrong. <br/><br/>Which…Buffy thought she could understand that. After all, if she was already worried about living forever, what would it be like for someone maybe living a few hundred years (because she assumed he was around that age – that was pretty common age for the oldest wolves according to research)?<br/><br/>“Never mind,” Buffy said quickly. She flashed the werewolf a weak smile. Buffy grabbed the door handle and practically jumped out of the car. Her cheeks flushed and she felt very, very stupid. Stupid for thinking about confiding in Samuel, stupid for making him uncomfortable, and just stupid for not knowing what to do with her life. It was like her early twenties all over again, minus the Double Meat Palace.<br/><br/>She didn’t bother to look back. Faintly, she heard Samuel call her name but she rushed into the hotel before he could see her eyes tearing up.</p>
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